Under Wicked Sky
by suge
Summary: REEDITED 03.18.2009. During a raid Zhao captures Zuko and Sokka. They escape with dificulty, but surviving the uncharted earthebender territory and each other is the real challenge. Sokka/Zuko. Dark Themes. COMPLETE.
1. Just Like A Wartime Novelty

**Title**: Under Wicked Sky  
**Fandom**: Avatar (Sokka/Zuko)  
**Rating**: Mature  
**Disclaimer**: A:TLA (and the title) are not mine.  
**Warning**: Violence, sex, rape.

**Chapter One: Just Like A Wartime Novelty**

The branch whipped Zuko in the face. He stumbled back, but the tugging at his wrist drew him forward again. Running, staggering onward he felt himself collide with the blue mass holding his wrist. There was a soft gasp before they both fell to the forest floor. They lay separate and silent, breathing in the sweat and salt that ran down their faces. Finally, Zuko rolled off his back and on his side to face the Water Tribe boy. He squinted in the darkness. The boy was unsheathing his dagger. Instinctively the Prince tensed, one hand ready to launch a sudden burst of flame, the other was useless, broken.

Thunk.

The dagger was driven into the side of the nearest tree. Crouching, the boy pressed his ear against the hilt. "I don't think anyone's coming this way, yet," he said in a shaky voice, putting the dagger away and looked at the firebender. For the first time in the past hour they faced each other. The silence was magnified by the crickets chirping somewhere around them. The boy sat down against the tree, his chest heaving, and Zuko pushed himself up into a sitting position with his good arm.

"How far are we from the village?" the Prince asked. Talk would be simple, each ignoring who the other really was. The enemy.

"A few miles."

Zuko frowned and coughed slightly. He could taste the metallic tang of blood in his mouth and spat. He had bit through his tongue, and his breath was coming in short bursts. "…Have to keep moving. Zhao isn't this easy to lose."

"I can't! My friends might still be down there!"

"By now they're dead or captured," Zuko said. "I would worry about myself." He pulled his lamed arm onto his lap and cringed, it was broken in several places. Setting it would be as painful as it would be difficult. The Water Tribe boy stood and Zuko's attention snapped back toward him. The Prince's good eye narrowed.

"What the hell did you do that for?"

The boy blinked, the angles of his face magnified in the twilight. "What?"

"What do you mean 'what?'," Zuko struggled onto his feet to face the boy eye to eye. "Why did you interfere…?" He couldn't finish the sentence because breathing was excruciating and traces of vertigo were dancing violently in his head.

"Why did I save you?" the other supplied.

"You didn't 'save' me!" Zuko shot back, stepping forward clutching his arm to his chest. "Why did you interfere? The battle was between Zhoa and myself!"

"It wasn't my first choice, okay?" the boy countered angrily. "Saving a firebender isn't high on my list of things to do. " He shrugged, avoiding the Prince's eyes and scratching the back of his neck. "It was kind of an accident, really. Besides that Zhao guy would have killed you, he was about to." The boy stopped and crossed his arms. "Why did you come with me?"

Zuko chose to inhale a few shaky breaths, to calm himself and take in enough air to answer. But as he watched the other turn and begin to walk away so he asked instead, "Where are you going?"

Of course he already knew the answer.

"Back to the village, I have to see if Aang and Katara are safe."

The Prince watched the blue figure push through thickets and undergrowth, until he was out of sight. The fool. Zuko sank to his knees and spat again. He slid easily onto the ground, leaves and twigs prickling into his face. His eyes closed, intending to rest just for a second.

Hours ago he nearly died.

Zhao had the upper hand - more men, rhinos, and cannons. So when the commander entered the village Zuko had already lost. Nevertheless, he would never acknowledge defeat, especially to a bastard like Zhao. Zuko, himself, had cornered the Avatar and he could almost feel the familiar winds of his homeland caressing his face. But, of course, Zhao had ruined the vision. It was chaos, firebender against firebender, Zuko against Zhao and his men. It wasn't fair, but what ever was these days?

The brawl was fleeting in his mind, memories jumbled - kicks, blocks, fire, some missing, some scorching. Zhao had him pinned and the other firebenders scattered into the fray seeing as they were no longer needed to subdue the Prince.

A boot crushed his left arm and broke it. His other arm was held by the commander, twisted away from the older man. Zuko's legs were useless in the situation; Zhao had positioned himself out of their way. Zhao was taking pleasure in standing over the Prince, he was speaking but Zuko's full attention lay in his bending. He intended to set his sleeves on fire, to break Zhao's grasp.

It was then the silver boomerang came, slicing through the madness, and struck Zhao's helmet. It was deflected, but Zhao had lost his power over the Prince and Zuko decided to play Zhao's dirty game. Grasping at the dusty roadside with his broken arm he waited for Zhao to turn back toward him. And when he did, Zuko felt the already broken arm snap again with the force of his throw. Whips of flame flew with the dust but died as the fractured bones were further disjoined. The commander had enough time to stop the flame, but he was no earthbender.

Zhao cried something foul as the dirt temporarily blinded him and aimed a burst of flame where Zuko had been. Zuko rolled away and took a split second to watch Zhao, panic, rubbing his eyes and calling for his men. The Prince raised his good arm, but he could not kill the commander yet.

Suddenly, something tripped over the Prince. It was the Water Tribe boy, friend of the Avatar. They locked eyes - Zuko on the ground, the boy laying only feet away. Zuko could tell the boy was terrified, but something within his eyes changed as he gazed back at the Prince. It was mercy - mercy for him, Prince Zuko of the Fire Nation and Zuko would have gouged those merciful eyes out given the chance.

The boy scrambled up, turned away, and then turned back to Zuko, saying in a pained voice, "Give me your hand!"

And much to the world's surprise, Zuko complied, letting the other pull him to his feet. The Prince swayed as vertigo hit. The boy was saying something, something angrily, perhaps an excuse for his benevolent actions, but Zuko couldn't make out the words properly. A hand closed on the Prince's wrist, and the voice was telling him to run, so he did.

And together, they ran and ran and ran…

Outside of his eyelids and the memories under them, something was moving. Zuko didn't stir as the twigs snapped in the pattern of footsteps. It was very close now, bending over him. Zuko's mind spun and he cursed; his good arm lay under him. A hand seized his shoulder and rolled him onto his back. Without hesitation his eyes opened and his arm shot out - a small fireball manifested and completely missed its target.

"Shit!" yelled the crouching Water Tribe boy, falling on his behind. Zuko struggled to his knees and aimed his good arm at the boy, who was now crouching low with his dagger drawn. Neither spoke, their dispositions had already provided answers to any questions they had for each other.

"Move and I swear I'll incinerate you," Zuko hissed. A small trickle of blood was running down his chin. It fell to the ground with a small splat.

"Whatever you say," the boy said with a smug grimace. "It's not like your going to last much longer." Zuko snarled, another burst of flame formed at his fist and shot at the boy. But a body collided with his - the boy had dove under the flame like some kind of blue and brown projectile, smashing into the Prince's stomach.

Zuko gasped as his back hit the ground, the wind knocked from his lungs. The boy was straddling him, one hand holding down his right wrist, the other painfully grasping his broken arm. The boy dug his fingers into the lamed arm's discolored flesh. But Zuko refused to scream, instead he grit his teeth and pushed his torso upward, his forehead colliding with the boy's.

Freeing his legs, the Prince rolled, pushing the other underneath him. With his right hand, Zuko grasped the startled boy's throat. Pressing his entire weight onto the other boy, he slowly tightened his grip. The boy choked, grabbing at the Prince's arm with his free hand - the other lay, twisted behind his back, pressed between the forest floor and both their bodies.

His eyes met the boy's wide blue eyes. Zuko wanted the gouge them out again. They grew larger and Zuko saw himself, his arm extending down to the boy's neck where it was slowly snuffing the life out of him. Above Zuko stood dark figures - the arched helmets were all too familiar.

Zuko released his grip, and turned his torso to facing the firebenders. But there was no time left, the blunt end of a spear collided with his temple and everything exploded as he sank. Zuko felt his cheek brush the other boy's, his good arm on the boy's chest. Under his palm he could feel the other's heart beating rapidly, it was somehow comforting.

**To Be Continued In…**

_**Chapter Two: Until It Sleeps**_

In which Sokka says his part, Zhao helps Zuko with his arm, and Zuko plans to escape.

**Disclaimer:**

Avatar is Nickelodeon's and I'm not making any money off of this unfortunately. The title "Under Wicked Sky" and most future chapter titles are randomly pulled from the Metallica songs, which are not mine either.

[_edited 03.14.2009_]


	2. Until It Sleeps

**Chapter Two: Until It Sleeps**

Sokka wished he could cover his ears so the creaking wasn't so loud but the shackles bound his wrists together tightly. He felt the ship sway, and something ominous creaked, as if the surrounding water would push in the ceiling and walls around him. The holding cells on Fire Nation ships were in the hull and they were a claustrophobic's nightmare. Sokka sighed. At least he knew Aang and Katara were safe, which was all that mattered . If those two were smart they would turn and head straight to the North Pole without trying any heroics on his behalf. Sokka doubted they would leave him, even if he'd pleaded with them and made them promise not to come after him if he was ever captured.

The brunette sighed, again, and tried not to move his wrists, the metal had begun to chafe. He'd awoken in the cell what seemed like hours ago and there was a throbbing on the back of his neck. He really wished he could itch it. Sokka sighed a third time and glared at his feet, where the cause of his problems lay comatose.

Prince Zuko.

Sokka didn't fully understand why he and the Prince of the Fire Nation were thrown in the same cell, after all he was just a peasant to them and this "Zuko" was their prince.

"See what happens when you help a firebender, Sokka." He muttered, more to the walls than himself.

It was a moment of weakness, the kind a man like his father would never have shown. Laying in the dusky road, face to face with those cold amber yellow eyes, Sokka had a revelation: the Prince was suddenly human, not a firebender, just a human. He bled, winced in pain, breathed flecks of blood onto his lips, and met Sokka's eyes with cold resolve. And even though Sokka could have easily slit his throat or plunged his dagger deep into the Prince's stomach, he couldn't because humans were much harder to kill compared to beasts. Sokka had never killed anyone in his life, so he gave the Prince his hand.

His second encounter with the Prince, he reminded himself, had nothing to do with mercy. After he left he firebender alone, he'd moved down the forested hill until he caught the sound of a Fire Nation regiment cursing. They said the Avatar escaped on some sort of flying animal; there was another occupant with him, a girl - Katara. He tried to evade them and he probably could have if he didn't stumble back to the Prince and fight with him. That, obviously, attracted the attention of said firebenders.

He still couldn't understand why they'd taken the Prince, though. Sokka supposed there was a chance he wasn't with the Fire Nation. Just the thought caused his view of the unconscious firebender to soften decimally.

The ship gave a great creak and shuddered. Sokka yelped and moved his hands toward his face defensively. _Sure_, a nagging voice of reason teased, _like that would work._ Nothing happened and the hull grew quiet again, somewhere in the higher chambers he could heard the guards' boisterous talk. Their confident voices crushed the dwindling amount of hope inside him; it had already taken a beating by their absence.

There was a new pain in his right leg where the unconscious Prince's shoulder was digging into his calve. The recent toss had knocked them closer together. The grotesque scar was facing him and from his angle Sokka thought the firebender looked demonic, nothing like he did in the battle. Nevertheless, Sokka could still feel the rough scar tissue grazing his cheek as the Prince was knocked unconscious in the woods. The Prince's chest rising and falling against his side, supplying the warm breathe that skipped across his neck… Sokka shuddered. He'd rarely been that close to another person lately, atleast not intimately close. But then, intimate was not a word he wanted to associate with the Prince.

Sokka nudged the other boy's shoulder away and a low moan escaped the unconscious Prince. Sokka froze and stared at him, apparently he'd also nudged the other prisoner's broken arm. His hands weren't bound together like Sokka's; they were incased in a box-like manacle that completely covered them and lay on the Prince's stomach. Sokka assumed this was to keep the firebender at bay. He noticed the right arm in the manacle was twisted in an unnatural position.

The firebender groaned again and muttered something unintelligible. His head swayed back and forth before his eyes opened for the first time. Instantly they dilated and narrowed. He tried to twist and sit, but his stomach muscles gave out. He fell back, coughed, and glared at Sokka's leg seeming to notice it for the first time. The Prince looked around, taking in the holding cell in all its grandeur.

"Zhao's ship," the Prince said in a scratchy voice as if informing himself. Sokka would have responded with something sarcastic but a low feral growl escaped the firebender's teeth and he slammed his good elbow on the steel floor. The bang was hollow.

"Uh, good morning… or night, …whatever," Sokka said weakly. The firebender craned his neck and scowled at his cellmate.

"Oh. _You_." The reply was a deadpan. The Prince turned away. "How long have we been here?"

"I'm not really sure… hours, maybe," Sokka answered the best he could. "You can't really tell down here - "

"Are there any guards posted right now?"

"No…"

Sokka watched the Prince close his eyes, his body tense. He was thinking very hard, probably trying to figure a way out. Sokka had already exhausted himself trying to find any fault in the cell and his shackles. There were none. Sokka felt his instincts scream for self-preservation, maybe Aang and Katara would come for him. Aang could defeat Zhao and his men. Aang was the Avatar and Sokka was just Sokka. The dark skinned boy scolded himself. He was bitter but, he reasoned, he had a right to be… Nonetheless, he believed in Aang, he had to for his mother's sake.

"Hey, Water Tribe peasant," The Prince hissed, looking _up_ at the other prisoner. "Listen to me, whatever you do, _do not_ reveal to Zhao that you are a friend of the Avatar." The Prince's good eye narrowed. "That is, unless you desire pain."

Sokka blinked and swallowed. Why was the Prince telling him this? "R-right. What should I tell him?"

The Prince didn't respond, his eyes were focused on the right side of the cell from which atleast five sets of footsteps could be heard.

"He's coming."

The breath stopped in Sokka's throat. Zhao was standing in front of them. At first glance, Sokka could tell Zhoa was formidable. He was still adorned in his armor, but it was his manner that held power. One of the guards opened the cell and Zhao walked in. He reminded Sokka of a very large cat, prowling around its prey.

"Zhao, you bastard," the Prince snarled with contempt. "You have no reason to hold me here! Release me this instant!"

"On the contrary, _Prince_ Zuko, I do. You know I can arrest anyone who attempts to hinder the Fire Nation," Zhao was smirking. "You, on neutral ground, attacked my men. In doing to so, you attack the very nation you've sworn to serve, even after banishment…"

Sokka's eyes widened. _Banished_?

Zhao continued, "…I think that does give me the right to hold you. Under the circumstances you are considered a dangerous criminal; a threat to the welfare of your father's nation."

"Bullshit!" Zuko said, again writhing in his bonds. He couldn't stand. "You attacked before I did! My men will swear to it! So will my uncle!"

"What was left of your _men_ and your foolish uncle fled the battle like cowards," Zhao said. "I've sent messengers to the other Commanders, the entire fleet will be watching the seas for them. I doubt that dinghy you call a ship will last long."

"You bastard," the Prince glared up at him. "I should have killed you in the Agni Kai!"

"Yes, yes, but you couldn't could you?" the Commander said quickly avoiding the overlaying meaning to Zuko's words. Zhao nodded toward Sokka, "And who are you?"

"I-I don't think you would really care," Sokka said stumbling along the words.

Zhao stepped over Zuko and pulled Sokka into a standing position by the front of his jerkin. "I care about anyone who aids a Fire Nation traitor. Especially if they're from the Water Tribe."

Sokka could feel the sweat on the back of his neck. He though fast. "I… I have an answer to your question, you see..." But not fast enough.

"He's one of my uncle's spies," Zuko said quickly. Perhaps to quickly. "He has been sworn to secrecy."

Zhao looked over his shoulder, "Really, now. Iroh using children to spy? And spy on whom may I ask?"

"Who do you think?" Sokka ground out and then winced. Damn his mouth's inability to connect with his brain sometimes.

Zuko quickly covered for the Water Tribesman. "He followed the Avatar into the village and informed us of his whereabouts. I only have you to thank for the target's escape."

"It that true?" Zhao turned back to Sokka. "Do you know anything else about the Avatar?"

"Yes --no! I mean it's true but I don't know anything, I just followed him! That's... that's all I was paid for!" Sokka said choking on the false words and ducked his head.

Zhao growled and shoved him roughly to a corner of the cell, "For now you stay here. But once we dock, you'll be tried and convicted as a criminal. After that, you'll wish I'd have killed you." The commander nodded towards the few men standing at attention outside the cell, "Chain the prisoner to the wall and take our beloved Prince to my chambers. It's been a while since we've had time to _talk_. Keep his right hand shackled and bring gauze for his other arm, you know the rest. I'll return after setting course for the nearest port."

There was an echo of "yesir!" and Zhao walked out of the cell and out of Zuko's view.

Zuko glared at the firebenders as they hoisted him to his feet. He could also see the Water Tribe boy crouched in the darkness, watching as they led him away. Zhao wasn't a fool; he would find out sooner or later what the boy really was and Zuko found himself hoping for later. As far as he was concerned the other boy was _his_ prisoner, even if they both wore Zhao's shackles. Once he found a way out, Zuko was taking his prisoner with him.

**--- **

"Move," said one of the guards and shoved Zuko down the hall. They walked in silence. The throbbing in Zuko's temple was not helping him memorize the path from the cell to Zhao's chambers. Zuko refused to consider what the Commander was planning; he would face it as it came.

Again, the guard shoved him, this time into a larger room decorated in burgundy and black. There the walls were blank, except for the large banners bearing the emblems of the Fire Nation, there was, also, a large mahogany desk and next to it… a luxurious bed. Zuko felt his stomach drop. A pale guard, not yet twenty, stopped him and drew a key fro his belt. Numbly, Zuko let a guard unshackle his left arm. Avoiding the Prince's eyes, the guard freed his left arm and undid the Prince's breastplate, setting it on the floor. Zuko was stripped of his second layer of clothing and then came the mandarin-collared negligee. Zuko winced and refused to shiver as he stood in his loose sleeveless undershirt.

"Lay down on the bed," the pale man said grimly as a fourth guard walked in caring a shallow dish of water and simple white bindings.

"You've got to be fucking kidding - "

Without hesitation the guard punched Zuko once in the stomach. An odd sounding gasp flew from his lips and Zuko felt himself doubling over. As he began to fall, the guard caught him. Caring Zuko like bride, the guard hoisted the younger man onto the bed. He secured the shackle on the Prince's right arm to a bedpost and left his ankles in the manacles, bound but moveable. The Prince tested his bonds against the bed's metal frame, leaving thin scratches. Zuko noticed there were other indentations on the bedpost.

"So," The Prince said slowly in a steady voice. "How many others?"

The guard next to him tensed and replied in a forced voice, "Silence, traitor."

Zuko snorted, and decided to let the stillness eat away at his captor. As the Prince expected, when the task was complete the guard quickly exited to room, nearly in a run. The other guards left in a more dignified manner, none, though, looked back. The last guard closed the door with his eyes on the ground. The bang was hollow.

Zuko immediately tugged at the manacle; his right hand was completely useless in the encasing and his left arm was of no use either. He rotated his shoulder and bent his elbow, his wrist was sprained and there was a break somewhere along his forearm. Zuko slowly took a breath. His chest ached. He concentrated on his right hand. Heat spread rapidly through the incasing, he hissed in pain. There was no way he could prepare himself against Zhao; his imagination had already created the nightmare that would come.

Within the room there was no sense of time, so when Zhao finally arrive Zuko wasn't sure if minutes or hours had passed. The older man walked in, he glanced briefly at Zuko before undoing his own breastplate. "You should stop struggling my Prince, you look paler than usual."

Zuko glared, "Fuck you, Zhao."

Free of the armor, the Commander approached the Prince, studying him silently. He made a semicircle around the bed before walking over to the water and gauze without a word. The silence sent an uncomfortable shiver down the Prince's spine. He turned his head towards the other man, "What kind of sick game is it this time?"

"Do you want that arm set or not? I can't return you to your father damaged." The answer was too simple, to _kind_. Zuko swallowed back the burning in his throat.

"I'd rather keep it this way if it means you wont lay your filthy hands on me."

Zhao turned and smiled at the Prince, setting the gauze and splints on the bedside, "I know."

"I hate you."

The Commander grasped Zuko's injured arm, running his fingers along the bone, pinching and pressing, looking for the break. "You know, my Prince, I've been looking forward to congratulating you on our last Agni Kai. You've undeniably improved in the last two years, though…" Zhao found the break and Zuko inhaled, grinding his teeth. "…I preferred you when you were younger." He grasped Zuko's wrist and elbow. "You're rash and unimpressionable now, before you were much more submissive. You even looked like a girl, which would make this much more comfortable..." He added the last though in a low voice, "…for both of us."

Zhao jerked the wrist and elbow apart and Zuko arched in pain. The Prince hissed through his teeth, letting the pent up air in his lungs escape instead of a scream. Zhao wasn't satisfied. Again, the commander check the break, the bones were aligned.

"I must say, my Prince, you do have a very high tolerance for pain," he set the splints and began to wrap the arm. "I remember the day your father gave you that scar. Your scream filled the stadium."

The Prince was breathing heavily. "What's… your… point, Zhao?"

"Just reminiscing." He had finished tying Zuko's wrist and sat back inspecting his work. The Prince was in more pain than he let on, Zhao was certain of that. He watched Zuko blink rapidly, trying to expel the blotched of color dancing in front of his eyes.

"Zhao…" the Prince's voice was a whisper and his eyes fluttered. He was loosing consciousness. "Zhao… I… I have to tell you something…"

"Hm?" The Commander's curiosity was struck; he leaned forward, over the Prince.

"I… " Zuko choked out. Then... "I WILL KILL YOU!"

Zuko's newly bandaged elbow collided with Zhao's chin, sending the man sprawling across Zuko's legs. Completely conscience and in a vengeful rage, Zuko caught Zhao by the neck within his knees. Locking his feet together he straightened his legs, choking the flailing commander.

"Zuko…" Zhao was grasping pathetically at the prince's knees.

"Begging won't help you right now," Zuko ground out as he pushed himself onto his elbows. "My honor won't be tarnished by your death."

"You don't… understand, Zuko," Zhao said. "The Water Tribe boy with you… if you kill me he will die, too."

"Really?" Zuko asked pitilessly. "Why should I believe you and why should I care about some mere boy?"

"He's been poisoned…he'll only last a three weeks, long enough for me to beat the information I need out of him…" Zhao said. "And I know he's not a spy…"

The prisoner's state was little of Zuko's concern, that was, if he would last long enough for the Prince to retrieve information on the Avatar as well. Yet, there was a tugging at his chest. The Water Tribe boy had save him in the battle.

"What is he then?" Zuko asked, jolting his right knee further into Zhao's neck.

"Your age, your ally, your type... perhaps even your lover."

The answer was a complete surprise, the last thing Zuko had suspected. "WHAT?"

Zuko felt Zhao take advantage of his shock. The Commander managed to bend the Prince's right knee and slip through his legs. Zhao lunged for Zuko's bandaged wrist with one hand; the other cupped the Prince's face roughly. The Prince, realizing that his legs were still around Zhao's waist dropped them, horror-struck.

"Still a virgin, I see," Zhao chuckled and whispered into the prince's right ear. "Does the idea of imtimacy with another man make you uncomfortable, my Prince?"

Zhao tied his bandaged arm to the other bedpost with the extra gauze and Zuko turned his head away, refusing to watch. The Commander responded by running his teeth across the exposed skin on the Prince's neck and sucking. It wasn't lovingly. It wasn't pleasuring. Zuko thrashed as Zhao began to mark him.

"Get off me you sick bastard!" The Prince yelled.

"Not likely, _my Prince_," Zhao said in a guttural voice. "All I want you to know is…" There was a soft creeping feeling running down Zuko's right arm where the steel manacle broke his skin. Zhao was momentarily distracted by the blood, but decided against stopping. "…You had this coming you, fucking brat. Without your dear Uncle Iroh you're nothing. _Nothing_."

His hands ran under the Princes shirt, along his chest, roughly examining the muscles and taking pleasure in pressuring the discolored skin around the ribs. Zuko closed his eyes, taking refuge in the darkness his eyelids provided, his mind centered on the pulse of his heart. He held his breath.

The older man's hands had reached is inner thighs and pulled his pants down past his knees. Fingers were stroking and pinching the pale skin, Zhao never touched him, though. Zuko bit into the side of his cheek, hard. His breath caught in his throat, Zhao was spreading his legs and bending his knees, only stopping to apply something from the bedside on himself. The Commander undid his own belt with a click and positioned himself, steadying Zuko's hips. It took his two tries to enter and Zuko gasped, his eyes opening.

Hope was glinting among the tousled covers as Zuko arched in pain and Zhao's hot body moved within him. Blood was filling the Prince's mouth and he swallowed it, concentrating on everything but Zhao against him, thrusting, the Commander's breathing, rough, grunting, and the idea of pleasure from the act. He loathed it, the warmth of the other body against him, in him.

When he first saw salvation - the small steel black key against the burgundy bedspread - Zuko was able to breath again. It wasn't Zhao who had left the key for him; it was the guard, definitely the guard. And all of Zuko's strength was put into reaching it. He thrashed again and Zhao must have been pleasured because he moaned and closed his eyes. Zuko, twisted his neck, and reached the key, dragging it with his tongue until it was close enough to pick up with his teeth. Satisfied, Zuko closed his eyes and concentrated on the taste of blood and steel under his tongue.

**--- **

"Don't move!" One guard commanded as he aimed a hand toward Sokka. The Water Tribesman looked up. There were three guards facing him, two supporting the Prince and the other watching him intently.

Something was terribly wrong, the darker skinned boy concluded at once. The Prince had been stripped of his armor; his clothes were wrinkled and sodden from sweat. His arms were both bandaged, the left fully and the right was only bandaged around the wrist, where, Sokka assumed, the manacle had cut. But, despite his attire, Sokka couldn't help notice how he held himself. He was neither proud, nor defiant, his head hung slightly and hateful eyes glowered at something far off. He was no longer in the dim hull.

The cell was forced open and the Prince stumbled in. Sokka watched as Zuko's good shoulder collided with the wall. The Prince sunk to his knees and gave no resistance as a second guard entered and roughly drug him toward Sokka. The guard undid Sokka's left hand and placed it palm to palm against Zuko's. An unusual steel constrain was placed on their wrists. The Prince's uninjured hand was free, but to close to Sokka's to perform any bending, atleast, that is, unless the Prince didn't want to hurt him.

As the cell slammed closed, Sokka looked over at the firebender. The other was breathing steadily, his eyes focused on something outside of the cell that may not have existed. Sitting shoulder to shoulder, Sokka noted the tangles in his hair and the bruises on his neck where, Sokka assumed, someone had tried to strangle him. He watched Zuko breathe for some time before the firebender faced him with daunting yellow eyes.

"What?" Their faces were merely inches apart.

"What happened to you?"

Sokka felt the paler boy's fingers twitch. Zuko's head snapped away from the other boy. "Nothing that you should concern yourself with," he said darkly. Then in a lower, calmer, voice he said, "We're going to escape, _tonight_."

"What? Really?" Sokka whispered back his heart pounding rapidly, hope suddenly springing to life. He wondered what the Prince had in mind. There were no guards in the hull, but their presence could be heard in the higher rooms. Getting out of the hull was going to be the challenge… but what of the shackles?

"Yes, we are," Zuko said slowly, almost as if he was unsure. Sokka suddenly caught a flaw in his speech, it was odd sounding but Sokka couldn't place it. "All Fire Nation ships have a standard key that can unlock all the holding cells and shackles, most high ranking officers have one of their own, incase they're captured and locked in their own restraints. I have the key, there's just one problem though…"

Sokka blinked and studied the Prince, "Where is the key?"

"In my mouth."

"Oh…?"

"Honestly," Zuko sighed in exasperation. "Listen, peasant, my left arm is broken, my right arm is stuck to your left arm. The only usable appendage we have between ourselves is you right arm, which is secured to the wall by a foot long chain so you can't really reach over and take the key from me. Do you understand what I'm implying?"

Sokka felt his face pale, then flush red. He was thankful for the dimness of the cell. "We're going to have to… so I can unlock my arm?"

"Yes," Zuko looked grim and uncomfortable. "Just don't swallow."

Sokka felt the Prince's warm fingers entwine his. The touch was almost comforting but he suddenly felt the Prince's nails driving themselves into the soft flesh at the base of his fingers. Sokka gasped, "Ow. Ow - "

Zuko leaned forward quickly and caught Sokka's open lips with his own, just the touch was sickening. Using his body as leverage he pressed himself against the other boy and squeezed his eyes closed, the pit of his stomach dropping as his tongue pushed the key towards the other boy. Grimacing he tried not to think of their tongues entwining or the supple feel of it sliding across bar skin. It wasn't a kiss, it was survival.

It wasn't a kiss, Sokka's brain told him. He felt the Prince's tongue slip into this mouth and something metallic passed from the Prince' tongue to his. The feeling was extraordinary, the softness of the Prince's tongue as it brushed his. There was also a taste of blood, something Sokka never enjoyed, which swamped his mouth. He wanted it to end and it did in seconds.

The Prince turned away quickly and spit. Sokka, having the key, wasn't granted that privilege; instead he made a face and tried not to gag.

**To Be Continued In…**

_**Chapter Three: Share This Paralyze**_

Sokka and Zuko escape. (Much more complicated than it sounds.)

_[edited 03.14.2009]_


	3. Share This Paralyze

**Chapter Three: Share This Paralyze  
**  
Once Sokka had gotten his right arm unlocked it should have been easier. The shackles around Sokka's wrist and the manacles on his legs were discarded. He was surprised the Prince hadn't complained about still being chained. Upon inspection, he found the other boy was resting against the wall with his knees bent, his eyes closed, and arms completely limp. The only sign of life was the rise and fall of his chest.

The brunette moved tentatively, surprised how wary he was of the injured Prince. Somewhere in the back of his head the word "firebender" was chanted again and again and again. He crouched at the Prince's side and surveyed the manacles binding each leg.

"I'm going to remove the cuffs on your legs, okay?" He had to ask, it only seemed right.

The Prince nodded once and kept his eyes shut as Sokka closed the gap between them, reaching over the Prince's knee and down to his ankle to unlock his right leg. Then Sokka unlocked the Prince's left leg and pushed the manacles aside, careful not to make noise. The key was amazingly small but fit all the locks and Sokka wondered how the Prince had procured it. He also couldn't shake the Prince's unnatural state. The firebender seemed to drift back and forth between reality and some sleepy delusion - only coming to when he was needed.

He began to unlock the cuff on their wrists. The steel was brilliant silver unlike the black steel most of the shackles were made of. He raised his wrist - the Prince's following in suit - and brought the key to the lock.

The key wouldn't fit.

Sokka tried again vainly. And again, until finally, he gave up and dropped his wrist, saying, "It's not working…"

"There's not enough time," the Prince said and opened his eyes. "We'll just have to make do with this."

He placed his chained hand on the ground, pulling Sokka's wrist with it, and used it to balance as he stood. Sokka was pulled up. The Prince swayed like a new born beast on his legs before stumbling forward and pitching downward. Sokka, on instinct, moved in front of him and caught his shoulders. Reaction was instantaneous. The Prince's eyes widened and he jerked out of Sokka's grasp, willing himself to stand. He winced twice and took a deep breath, regaining his composure and, perhaps, calming himself - the air near Sokka's chained hand grew uncomfortably hot.

"…Okay then," Sokka said because the silence was ringing in his ears. Tension was snapping in the air; he could feel the Prince's disposition radiating throughout the cell. He _did not_ like to be touched.

They moved toward the barred exit. Sokka took his time, making sure the Prince wasn't falling behind - from the state he seemed to be in, collapse was ultimately imminent. The Prince caught onto his hesitation, he suddenly sped up and walked a chin ahead of Sokka. In a few steps they reached their destination.

At the bars of the cell door, Sokka quickly made work of the lock. It clicked loudly open and both prisoners froze. The chatter above them continued and it sounded as though someone large and burly was laughing loudly. Zuko nodded and Sokka began to slide the bars aside. The screech of metal on metal was louder this time and he stopped when the gap was wide enough for himself and the Prince to slide through.

It was odd, Sokka mused, working with the enemy. Both of them were in the same situation, had the same goal (at the moment), and shared a passionate dislike for Zhao - though the Prince's was much more profound. In a way, he reasoned, they weren't enemies anymore at this point. Somehow, it was easier sliding through the cell door and standing at a loss in the hallway with the firebender with that thought in mind.

"Head left," Zuko ordered.

"Are you sure?" Sokka looked down the right hallway. It was much darker and farther away from the jovial voices of Zhao's crew.

"Yes," the Prince was glaring at him and Sokka felt himself shrink under the gaze. It was the eye. "I'm sure I spotted the deck this way when…" He stopped quickly, his glare hardening. "Don't question me. We're going left."

"Fine," Sokka said and jogged along side the firebender. The firebender hadn't shared the escape plan with him - frankly he wasn't sure if the Prince had a plan at all. The Prince was running, he was sure of it, but what he was running from was the mystery. The prince was moving slowly compared to the last time he'd seen him in battle, even with an unset arm.

The chain of cuff on their wrists was rattling as their arms swayed, and Sokka was snapped back to reality. Frantic to stop the noise, Sokka grabbed at the chain and pressed it between his palm and the cold flesh of the Princes wrist. The firebender gave him a look but didn't' say anything or stop. Sokka wondered why he hadn't bothered to stop the sound. It was a basic in self-preservation in the mysterious "plan".

They slowed to a quick walk as the first corner loomed. Sokka was shocked as the Prince suddenly pulled him back into the darkness along the hallway. As he pressed himself against that wall, Sokka could hear footsteps approaching hurriedly. The wall wasn't enough cover, but the bend in the hall would be enough to surprise the enemy.

Surprising the enemy _was_ the problem, though. Sokka knew Zuko had no way of attacking with his fists; the firebender could use his feet - he'd heard savage tales from the men in his village of firebenders fighting with all four of their appendages. But, the prince most likely wouldn't be able to react quickly enough… he was already having trouble walking. Sokka suddenly found the responsibility on his shoulders - he was now the muscle and fight for both of them. Sokka sourly missed his boomerang and dagger…

He noticed the look on the firebender's face and assumed they had reached the same conclusion. The fire Prince was looking out of the darkness with anticipation, but the frown his mouth was set at hinted that he knew, he himself, was virtually powerless.

A shadow grew and began to climb the wall opposite them as the soldier neared. Sokka was ready in his mind but his knees were beginning to quiver. Suspense was high. When the firebender's footfalls reached their loudest, Sokka felt himself being dragged out of the shadows by his wrist. The Prince was on the offensive and perhaps Sokka had underestimated him.

The startled soldier took a kick to the head as the prince's foot arched in the air. _Of course, Sokka_, reason said mockingly, _he doesn't have to firebend. He also has his martial arts._

The soldier had landed against the shadowed wall. Upon realizing who had kicked him, he dropped to his knees bowing until his forehead touched the floor. This action seemed to stop Zuko from continuing his onslaught and showering the soldier in a flame. The Prince dropped his steaming foot warily.

"My Lord…" The soldier stayed frozen, but addressed the Prince directly, ignoring Sokka. "Thank the gods I've found you!"

" 'Lord'?" The Fire Prince asked slowly. Sokka watched as his eye narrowed. "You know who I am and I am not a lord yet."

"Forgive me,'" the soldier said, daring for the first time to look up at the younger firebender. Sokka noticed the pale indentation across his right cheek and running into his eye. The scar was in the shape of a cross. "But any surviving man from the forty-first battalion will swear that you are his lord."

Sokka watched the Prince's eyes widen substantially as he asked, "Forty-first battalion… you're…"

"Yes," The man said rising only to his knees. "I am Heika, one of thirty-two, thirty-two of two hundred. The two hundred boys your father and the commanders ordered into battle. The two hundred men you were slandered for. We _all_ serve you, my lord."

Sokka had little idea what the significance of the forty-first battalion was, or why the survivors would call the Prince their Lord. There was just too much to take in at the moment. He wasn't entirely sure whether Heika was going to help them… So the prince had followers, he was royalty. Sokka couldn't shake the tenseness between his shoulder blades. The prince was completely stone, but whatever the meanings were, it impacted him deeply. It was the eye, Sokka noticed, it wasn't upturned in its conventional glare.

"Heika, Sen. Age twenty three, as of two years ago. Survived Bai Sing Sei troops with the loss of the right eye. You were in the infantry," Zuko said slowly. "I've read about all thirty two." He nodded. "Stand. Tell me, what are you doing on Zhao's vessel?"

The man nearly jumped up and bowed to the waist, "I am a Capitan here, sir. I have been requesting the transfer of many men for the forty-first to my division. There are twenty men on duty tonight in the west sector, my lord, sixteen are loyal solely to you, sir."

"Would they die for me, Heika?" the Prince asked softly.

"They would and then again some," Heika nodded and then seemed to notice Sokka. "My Lord is he…?"

"He's my prisoner," the Prince said. "Zhao was kind enough to cuff us together."

"What? Wait…! We're both handcuffed here!" Sokka sputtered and frowned. "Prisoner, my ass."

The captain looked outraged and the Prince was vexed. Sokka suddenly felt the air temperature near his hand rise substantially. It was nearly unbearable when he yelped and shook his wrist. "Damn it. Ow! Whatever. I don't suppose you have the key to this," he said looking at Heika.

The Captain shook his head no and addressed the fire prince. "Forgive me, my Lord, if I knew of your arrival before hand I would have come sooner, before… before he set your arm." Sokka immediately noticed the Prince's response. His bad eye angled into a glare and, again, the air near his cuffed hand was heated. As Sokka watched the eye twitch in agitation he wondered vaguely how badly Zhao had tortured the Prince.

Another, loud, burst of laughter caught the trio's attention. Heika quickly motioned for the two to follow him; "I must see you off this ship, my Lord. There is limited time."

"Zhao has men on deck," Sokka muttered before the prince replied. "How the hell are we going to get passed them?"

"I said before the majority of my division are from the battalion. We are paroling the back of the ship tonight and the back of the ship is where the smaller exploration crafts and carriers are carried." Heika jogged up a flight of stares and made sure the hall ahead of them was clear. He motioned for them to follow. "I will send a man to retrieve your weapons and gather supplies." He checked another hall and motioned, "Quickly, this way."

They were going to escape. Sokka had decided to ignore the fact that the Prince believed him to be his prisoner. Right now his intention was to get off Zhao's ship. He had been thoroughly distraught until the Prince had announced their escape. Now he and the prince had aid and the future was suddenly brighter than it had ever been in the dim cell. Everything was going ten times better than he'd ever imagined. But… the dust sky appeared as they reached the deck… where were Aang and Katara?

---

Smoke was curling into the dimming sky from their battle. The arena was small, but big enough for two man bending. Around the pitch, Zhao's men stood and watched, their eyes hidden under helmets or hidden in shadow. Two figured circled each other in center of the field.

Zhao attacked rapidly with a fury of shots from his hands. The lieutenant dove and rolled out of the way; crouched down he extended a leg and let loose a blanket of fire from his foot. Zhao jumped back and whipped the sweat from his brow, glaring. His opponent had never shown himself to be a passionate fighter, yet he seemed almost intent on killing the Commander for the last half hour.

"Lieutenant Enjou," Zhao called with hidden fury. "I think that's enough practice for now. This isn't an Agni Kai."

The other man, pale and sullen, faced Zhao with blank dark eyes, "As you wish, Commander. Permission to speak freely, sir?"

"Granted."

"If I were to speak what is truly on my mind, I would say you were afraid to lose today, sir."

Zhao openly glowered at the lower officer. "Insubordinate again, lieutenant?"

Enjou shrugged. He was to young, Zhao thought. All soldier recruited in the last three years were to young, but the war required a sacrifice and if the youth were the lambs then Zhao respected the need. Still, the young ones who survived were always a bit odd and disobedient.

Zhao had turned away, planning to bath and bed as soon as his covers were washed. But the icy voice of the lieutenant stopped him, "So, how was he?"

Was the lieutenant implying what he thought he was? Zhao hated it when lower officers spoke openly; he demanded their utmost respect. The commander set his glare to kill and faced Enjou.

"What are you talking about?"

"The Prince." The Commander couldn't miss the twinge of disgust in the other man's monotonous voice. His chin was also tilted to the left and he watched his commanding officer with stony eyes. "Was fucking him necessary, sir?"

Zhao felt his temper spike. Without replying he backhanded the lieutenant as hard as he could. The man stumbled back and put a hand against his face.

"You're lucky I haven't killed you yet!" Zhao growled and the attention of the others in the arena was caught. Silently they watched the Commander circle the lieutenant like prey.

"Forgive me, sir," Enjou said and dropped his hand, saluting the Commander formally. "I have one question left, sir."

Zhao was breathing deeply, trying to control the flame within from engulfing the younger man. "What is it, lieutenant?"

"I was asked by the Prince… how many others, sir?"

Zhao contemplated the question. It was true the Prince was not the first, war was a man's sport and the sport demanded power - which neither the lieutenant nor the Prince had. It was only power. "He wasn't the first and he won't be the last," Zhao said darkly. "Is that satisfactory, private?"

"In a way, sir," Enjou said in the monotone and turned away.

Zhao turned away from the other man. Enjou was a problem; he always had been with his constant mood swings. One minute the man was meek the next, he would have killed his commanding officer. The only policy keeping the ex-lieutenant alive was a national act for rights of the mentally ill; otherwise Zhao would have snapped his neck. The national act itself, he scoffed, was only put in place to increase the number of troops… It was the war, Zhao thought, but sacrifices were made and if Enjou's sanity was one then it was a necessity. Zhao hated to be the one to carry the burden though. Soon, he planed; he'd toss that particular burden to the flames. Glaring at the officers around him, Zhao began to exit the arena.

"Commander!" A beard man ran up to him and panted. "Commander… the prisoners… they…"

"What? What!" Zhao demanded.

"They've escaped, sir!"

Grabbing the front of the officer's shirt, Zhao pulled him closer. "How the hell did this happen!"

The messenger was cowering, "I don't know. They unlocked the shackles, sir! They must have gotten someone's key!"

Zhao flung him down and cursed. The Prince was a crafty bastard… or was he aided? Zhao turned around and looked for the ex-lieutenant Enjou in the gathering crowd. The man was watching him with the same stony eyes he'd fought with, a slow smile spread across his lips. He blew Zhao a kiss mockingly and the Commander felt his temper his the roof.

"You there!" He bellowed at two benders standing nearest to him. "Arrest Lieutenant Enjou now! He's just freed the prisoners!"

Reaction was instantaneous; the crowd spread away from Enjou and the two men Zhao ordered charged the lieutenant. There was no resistance. Enjou was grabbed roughly by the first man, his hands position behind his back. The two men took hold of his shoulders.

"Search him and take him to the holding cells!" Zhao was beyond rage.

The guards had turned the lieutenant away, but he craned his neck to stare at Zhao mockingly. "What now, Zhao? Are you going to give me the royal treatment, too?"

Something between a roar and feral grow escaped the Commander's lips. Shifting his feet and moving his arms quickly he released a rush of flame, instantly engulfing the three men. The arena fell silent as their screams echoed off the walls and Zhao made sure they were silent before he extinguished the fire. Their corpses dropped to the ground… they no longer resembled humans.

"Clean this up," Zhao said in a low voice and turned away. The men in front of him jumped out of his way and he smirked inwardly; power was indeed _wonderful_.

**--- **

Hazily the water tribesman squinted toward the horizon. The icy sea wind was whipping the Prince's hair into his face and he batted it away with his free hand.

The plan was simple and it had worked. They were off the ship and away from the dreaded commander but Sokka felt a new crisis growing in his mind - he was now the Prince's prisoner. He mentally beat himself for believing, in some small degree, that perhaps after they escaped they would walk their separate ways. That wasn't physically possible do to the cuffs. Heika didn't have the key and the Prince had chosen to leave as soon as possible, foregoing Heika's suggestion of sending for his friend, a locksmith.

His knowledge of firebenders had grown rapidly in the last hour. They were ruthless and loyal to an extreme. Heika had told them about a lieutenant who, at the very moment, was distracting Zhao and if necessary would take his life through Zhao in order to keep the commander distracted. Their dedication was admirable, but Sokka felt no such emotion for the enemy.

They were alone, headed into earthbender territory. The prince was unstable. He didn't seem to care where he was headed as long as it was away from Zhao and their personal safety didn't seemed to matter. He could still hear the prince's breathing over the soft hum or the boat's motor.

The Prince was steering with his uninjured hand and Sokka was forced to stand next to him. It was fast, Sokka admitted it, but their transportation worried him.

Sokka looked behind him at the dwindling silhouette of Zhao's ship. It was a scar against the dusk sky - big and ugly. But Sokka was glad to be off it. He decided he preferred the impassive prince to the commander. Staring at the Fire Nation ship, it suddenly sprang to life, lights flashed on and Sokka could have sworn he heard the voices of men shouting to one and other.

Sokka felt the Prince turn and stare at the ship. "Shit," he growled. "I was hoping for more time!"

Four huge searchlights swept across the ocean and Sokka felt the tension in his shoulders tighten.

"Can we make it?" He found himself asking.

"We will." The answer was determined, but deterred as a searchlight landed on their position. Sokka shielded his eyes and froze.

The Prince ducked his head and pulled a lever, the craft gave a jolt and flew forward. The searchlight wasn't lowered, they were spotted.

Sokka summed up their situation in two words. "Oh fuck."

There was a whistling sound in the air. Sokka couldn't place it, but he had heard it before. Blinded by the light he racked through his memory. The Prince was ahead of him, though.

"He's firing on me?" The response was outraged. "That lousy fuck, he's firing on me!" And the answer came to Sokka: Fire Nation catapults. Oh fuck, indeed.

Just above the blinding light Sokka saw the molten ball of flame as it sped toward them. Their boat gave a sudden jerk to the left and the searchlight failed to follow. Sokka was suddenly aware of the prince grabbing his arm and pulling him off the small craft and into the frigid water. A second later the ball of flame had collided with the right side of the craft, sending debris flying. Sokka plunged under the water and surfaced in time to see the impact. The small steel ship sunk quickly.

"Grab that plank!" The Prince's voice barked in Sokka's ear and he responded by grabbing a piece of crate.

"What do we do now?" Sokka asked when they were both clutching the wood.

"Zhao knows we survived," the prince said and spit out a mouthful of seawater. "We've got to get to shore. It's approximately one and a half miles…" he was pulled under and surface again, gasping for breath. The prince grabbed the front of Sokka's jerkin and pulled him under. Sokka was shocked at first, but as he looked to the surface the bright beam of the searchlight swooped overhead.

They surfaced in unison. Sokka grabbed the same plank and pulled it toward himself and the firebender. The options weren't pleasant, they would drown without the plank and if they stayed in the water for to long they would freeze. Another sweep of the searchlight and they would most likely lose the plank.

"Man, I really don't want to die like this!" Sokka yelled over the sound of the small waves breaking. He couldn't see the Prince's full expression, but it most likely echoed his - desperate.

"We have a chance," the Prince's voice chocked out. "Raise your left hand!"

Grasping at the plank with his right hand, Sokka did so. The Prince's hand rose with his. The air between their hands was instantly hot. Sokka looked up to see a small flame hovering in the Prince's hand. The water tribesman shifted his wrist in the cuff so the back of his hand was facing the flame. It was burning him terribly but the light spread worried him more.

"He's going to fire on us again! What the hell are you doing?"

The prince's eyes were closed; his face was stony in concentration. "That's exactly what we need."

Sokka heard the whistling before he saw it. A second fireball was hurdling toward them.

"Dive!" the Prince yelled and pulled Sokka under.

Although Sokka couldn't see and the water stung his eyes he dove against the water's pressure. There was a cracking sound as the surface above him broke, the fireball becoming a large ball of coal and assorted metals. It overtook them quickly and Sokka found himself, flattened against the coal as it sunk rapidly. He looked over to where the prince should have been and saw darkness.

A sudden tug at his wrist pulled him up and over the side of the coal ball. Sokka felt his ears pop as they reached the sea floor. It wasn't as deep as he thought, otherwise the water pressure would have been worse. They were closer to land than they thought. His heart skipped a beat.

Sokka felt himself floating away, but, again, he was pulled against the coal. He really needed to breath but the prince was keeping him under. Sokka felt his left hand brush the coal roughly and nearly gasped. His hand was burned.

The Prince suddenly released his hold from the orb and pulled Sokka along with him. Light spread form cracks in the coal and Sokka's own eyes widened. The prince was attempting to firebend _underwater_. Sokka could see the flame of the firebender in the dim green-blue light. His right hand was extended, aimed at the coal orb. There was a great cracking sound in the water and the orb burst, the shockwave propelling thousands of pieces of coal and metal outward.

Sokka felt the Prince sink. On instinct he turned in the water and wrapped his right arm around the firebender's waist, pulling him against his chest. Sokka closed his eyes and waited for the explosion to radiate outward, propelling them forward. The Prince's insane plan would be put to the test.

It hit them.

The water tribesman clung tightly to the firebender as their bodies were thrust into the sea's abyss. Sokka shut his eyes, his cheek pressing against the Prince's. This time it wasn't rough scar tissue; it was skin, soft and human.

They broke the surface and Sokka felt the firebender cough and inhale desperately. They were alive.

The sudden feeling of ground under their feet shocked both teens, the water was only up to their necks. There was a half moon shining silver down on the earth and it lit the treetops. Sokka looked toward the shoreline with renewed hope. It was still far but the incline was shallow, meaning they could make it.

"We're almost ashore," Sokka said, securing his hold on the firebender's waist. He thought he felt the other teen nod. It was his turn now, the firebender was thoroughly worn out from starting the explosion, and Sokka would have to be the one to drag his ass on shore. Sokka contemplated how to get the firebender ashore without dragging him by his wrist. He kept his arm around the bender's waist and pushed against the rip current.

He wasn't sure how long it took him to reach knee level water, but the firebender was still conscious by that time and he pulled himself out of Sokka's grasp and stumble ashore. Sokka found himself smiling at the moon, it's curvature in the sky smiled back. Every muscle in his body screamed and the burn on his hand throbbed but, right now he was alive, the pain was a reminder.

Their knees caved a few steps out of the water. Sokka fell to the sandy earth with the smile on his face. He turned to look at the Prince who was lying on his back and arms length away. Even though his impassive face was painted in silver, Sokka was sure they shared the same joy. The prince's eye flicked toward Sokka and the firebender's mouth curved at the edges, ghosting a smile.

Silence and sounds of the terrestrial night didn't need to be disturbed so Sokka stayed silent. He found himself watching the teen next to him; aware of how very close they had both come to death in the sea. His mind was free of the ominous chanting and, Sokka supposed, in the morning he should tell the Prince his name.

**To Be Continued In…**

_**Chapter Three: Won't See What Might Have Been**_

Aang and Katara reflect on Sokka's disappearance and why they have not, yet, come for him. Meanwhile, Iroh and crew battle for survival.

[_edited 03.14.2009_]


	4. Wont See What Might Have Been

**Chapter Four: Wont See What Might Have Been**

Katara watched through the haze as Aang struggled to guide Appa. She was numbly aware of a throbbing in her shoulder where her cloths were sticking to her skin uncomfortably. Vaguely, she wondered why Aang looked from side to side and in a panicked voice often asking, "Hey, Katara, are you alright?" or shouting, "Hey, Katara, you need to stay awake!"

"Yeah…" she would answer, still not sure what he meant by "alright". There was nothing wrong with her, nothing at all.

So in the time that passed between Aang's questions and her one worded answer, she took to staring into the sky watching the stars slowly disappear as the sun was pulled over the horizon. And in the silence she couldn't help but wonder where her brother was. She couldn't turn to look about the saddle, but his presence was nonexistent.

"Aang?" She asked when the last of the stars had hidden in the light. "Where's Sokka?"

The monk glanced back at her and she could see the sadness in his eyes.

"I don't know, Katara…" His voice was breaking, as his eyes grew shiny with premature tears. "I don't know. We had to get out of there…" He turned back to navigate, but the wind carried his pained voice to her ears. "I'm so sorry, Katara."

She knew he was crying, so she said; "Don't worry Aang, Sokka's a big boy. He can take care of himself." Even if she wasn't entirely faithful to the words they seemed to help. Aang nodded, slightly comforted, but the issue still hung above their heads, raining mercilessly.

Katara was taken back to a week before, when she and Sokka had stayed awake one night watching the flame of their campfire become charred embers. She realized, then, watching his face in the dying light, how both of them had grown. What they had seen in the course of weeks was changing them and she wasn't sure is she was entirely ready for the change. There were still ghosts hanging in the back of her mind, memories that ate away at her dreams when she slept. Sokka had them too, she remembered when they were younger - eight and nine - and how he would wake up crying for his mother. Gram Gram would appear and take him, and sometimes both of them, into her arms, rocking them until a dreamless sleep overtook their minds.

She never knew exactly what made Sokka cry at night, but as he grew and changed it diminished, becoming a weakly occurrence, then monthly, then, altogether, it was gone. Sokka picked up spears, daggers, his father's boomerang during that time. Training and preparing for war - the war he would fight in and the war he intended to see through to the end. It scared her, the thought of her brother on the battlefield, bloody, plunging a spear into the heart of another human. But, she assumed, that was what he wanted; that was the thought that frightened away the nightmares.

She had asked him once, when they were young, what he dreamed about. He didn't tell her; instead he slapped her and told her never to ask him something like that. Said she was lucky not knowing. Said she was the luckier one of the two. Gram Gram came over and scolded him for his behavior, sending him to bed without dinner. Katara had listened to his stomach rumble while he whined and whimpered in his sleep, thrashing away until morning when he awoke and stared at the small hut's ceiling until he noticed her gaze.

So, in front of the fire and the dying embers, he looked up at her with a contemplative face. He could think, she acknowledged this, but not all the time. Right now, though, she'd told herself, he _was_ thinking.

"Katara," he said, coming right out with what was on his mind. "Listen, I want you to make me a promise."

"Sure," she'd said and raised her eyebrows. "What is it?"

He licked his lips and dropped his head, eyes back in the glowing cinders. "If I ever get captured I want you and Aang to go on without me. Okay?" He'd looked up again, catching her startled eyes. "This is the fate of the world we're talking about Katara… It's not worth my life."

"No," she'd said firmly, angry that he'd even suggest such a thing. "Sokka, you, me and Aang are a family, we'll put ourselves in danger for each other. It's a given. We could never leave you behind!"

"Shhh!" he hissed and glanced at the Avatar's sleeping form. "No, Katara, me and you are family. Aang is something different entirely. Aang is hope and nobody's life is worth the hope for peace. Katara, please promise me…" he was desperate, pleading even. "For mother?"

She'd been shocked, how dare he use the image of their mother against her. She would never… she _could_ never… It was her turn to drop her head and stare at the slow death in front of them. "Yes, Sokka. I promise, if you… if you…" her hand instinctively reached for her mother's pendant, but it was gone, most likely forever "… we won't come for you."

He smiled then and walked to her side of the extinguished fire, saying, "Thanks, Katara." And swept her up into a hug, holding her for a few seconds and then letting her sit back down again.

He'd tottered to his sleeping bag minutes later, asking if she was going to bed soon. She'd told him later. She wanted to think. Shrugging he rolled over and began snoring. She waited and they came, the incoherent mutterings and thrashing he hadn't experienced in years. She found herself wanting to wake him, to stop whatever nightmare was eating away at his soul, but instinct stopped her. Both tribesmen were used to the nagging thoughts and feelings in the back of their minds - even the things that told them to follow a young villager with their eyes. For Katara, though, it was the screaming woman in the darkness

Sokka was gone, her mind told her emotions, but the floodgates in her eyes did not burst. He's alive, she knew, he's alive. She wanted to yell at Aang, "Turn back! Turn back, that's my brother we're leaving behind!" But her throat was dry and she could still feel the hug.

"Where are we going?" She managed to choke out, her throat felt as if it were to cave in and stop her speech altogether.

"It's not far," Aang called back. "There's a healer's temple somewhere on these mountains."

She couldn't see the mountains and didn't know why they would need a healer. They needed to go back.

Momo, who had been silently perched on Aang's shoulder jumped off and scampered toward her. She wanted to pet him but her arms were heavy, her whole body was heavy but her head was light - light enough to float away. The lemur chirped and hopped on her shoulder, causing her to wince. When she did, he hopped off and stared at her with large spring colored eyes. Katara suddenly noticed the blood on the lemur - the red was dotting his coat.

She was then aware that the blood was hers, running from her shoulder where Aang had tried to tie it off. Where there was a broken arrow shard embedded in her - it was all so very clear now.

In the fray, the Prince had cornered her, Aang, and Sokka. But then another, older man came, and the firebenders clashed. As the firebenders fought, they ran. She wasn't aware of the details, but they were separated. The last time she saw Sokka was when he threw the boomerang into the fray, then like a string attached him to the weapon he followed it into the chaos. Thinking back on him standing tense and resolute on the outside of the battle, he was an image of both their parents - strong like their father, determined like their mother.

She suddenly knew they had to turn back. He was the only thing she had left.

---

The size of the banished prince's ship was laughable compared to a standard Fire Nation vessel. Lieutenant Ji found himself staring enviously at Zhao's ship when it pulled along side them the morning preceding the attack. The casualties they'd suffered from the battle were regrettable, five men, an eighth of the crew, were dead, and six more injured. It wasn't a terrible loss due to the sheer number of soldier's Zhao had set on them. But still… regrettable.

The men were lined up, hands tied behind their backs, as General Iroh was led into Zhao's ship to discuss a settlement on the crew's fate. The men were all aware of the immediate danger that they were in, and the danger their families were in. Zhao would brand them traitors, but unlike the prince, they would face certain death.

Zhao was a bastard, Ji thought murderously in his head over and over again as the commander ordered their ship to be searched. It was blaringly obvious that the commander had lost the prince. Zhao, he assumed, would do everything he could to keep them from the prince and their nation. Blockades, barring from ports… the man was smart, but careless, driven by his greed. Ji had heard on many occasions: Zhao was too quick to assume.

There was a sigh that seemed to escape from Ji when the commander marched on to the smaller vessel, his eyes flashing dangerously. He hadn't won yet - both the Avatar and prince had escaped him. Ji did not _like_ the prince, but he found himself respecting the boy's determination… or was it naivety? The entire crew was aware of the Fire Lord's true intentions when banishing the boy. He was never meant to find the Avatar. He was never expected to. Ji was pleased, in a way, that the avatar had chosen to reveal himself to the prince after a century of hiding. If only the prince could catch him…

"Lieutenant!" Barked a dark firebender from Zhao's ship, and grabbed Ji by the collar. "If you have any information on the traitor, Zuko, or have contacted him, I suggest you speak now. Silence is not golden today."

"I have no more information than you. And I have not had contact with the prince since yesterday morning - before _your_ Commander ordered the attack," Ji said and received a swift punch to the gut. His stomach caved and he bent forward, refusing to fall. He could see the men on either side of him receiving the same treatment.

"Lieutenant," the man said, sneering in Ji's face. "Liars are not treated well in _my_ nation." Another punch was delivered and the lieutenant fought the urge to headbutt the man, free his hands, and burn him to a crisp. _Our_ nation, damn it.

"Enough!" A voice shouted from somewhere in front of Ji.

Ji was released and faced the speaker. It was a middle-aged man wearing an eye patch to the right. The one eyed man glared at the darker man next to Ji and told him to untie the lieutenant. Obviously scoffing, the torturer complied.

"I am Capitan Heika," he said, introducing himself to the freed lieutenant. "I assume you are the officer in charge of this ship, currently."

"Yes," Ji said and bowed. "Ji, Lieutenant, second class, sir."

"Good, good," Heika said and motioned for him to follow. They walked along the deck, Heika ordering the men to lay off the smaller ship's crew. Out of earshot, Heika faced the lieutenant, crossing his arms behind his back. "I assume you have not heard from your prince."

"No." Ji said, feeling an interrogation forming again. He eyed the other man with suspicion.

The captain made a noise acknowledging him. "There is something you must know. There are pressing matters concerning the prince," Heika paused as a private passed them and continued when the man had passed. "He was able to escape Zhao, assisted by those loyal to him. Unfortunately, there is no word on whether he and the prisoner with him survived Zhao's bombardment, we know their craft was sunk…"

Ji was quickly running the information through his mind. If that prince was dead the throne's vacancy would surely go to the princess. He rubbed his temples, the war would ensue after Ozai's death. The princess had proved to be as violent and war hungery as her father, even perhaps more so. Their nation would be in a state of constant war… unless someone else was crowned, but it seemed unlikely. Ji felt his eyes flick toward Zhao's ship.

"…The more pressing matter concerns his survival from here on," Heika continued. "If he managed to survive, which Zhao is certain of, he is on earthbender territory - seeing as he is not here…"

Away from their conversation Ji was vaguely aware of Iroh's return and the freeing of his men. Zhao was glowering behind the old general. The old man had worked his magic again…

Heika noticed the change and sped up his speech, "The prince will die in a matter of days, even if the earthbender's fail to capture him. Both the prince and the prisoner are poisoned."

Again with death. Ji wondered what poison Zhao had used. It was an old custom of the Fire Nation to poison their prisoners, insuring that they would die, even if they escaped. Surely the prince must have guessed…

"Why are you telling me this?" Ji asked as the men on deck began to gather and move back to their ship. He had to know.

"Because, I cannot do anything while under Zhao's nose. I'm asking you, as a man, not as your superior, to bring this up with Iroh," the younger captain said and looked away. "They have less than three weeks."

**To Be Continued In…**

**Chapter Five:**_** Now The Candle Burns At Both Ends**_

Let the bonding begin… or so Sokka thought. A struggle for dominance in the boy's new relationship" ensues.

[_edited 03.14.2009_]


	5. Now The Candle Burns At Both Ends

**Chapter Five: Now The Candle Burns At Both Ends**

He was walking through the thick snow. The drifts were higher than they should have been at his height and his mother shouldn't have been holding his hand - she was dead. But, upon realization, he wasn't fifteen anymore, he was eight. Other than that, the invisible path he seemed to follow was familiar. The snow was coming down in a blinding sheet, carpeting everything in white except what he followed. It was red and the snow couldn't cover it.

He felt his eight-year-old tears rolling across his cheeks, freezing at his chin. There shouldn't have been blood. His mother was holding the severed paw in her other hand. It wasn't bleeding because it was frozen. He could see it. Just like the snow there was red on white, where red shouldn't have been. The coldness in his other hand bit back and he realized, then, he was holding the trap. The evil steel device also carried the dark liquid between its large teeth. It grinned back at him.

They came to the top of a pale dune and looked down into the recesses of the valleys and hills facing them. There was a large pack of wolves, crowded where the trail stopped. He couldn't help but let go of his mother's hand and run toward them. The large gray animals, aware of his presence, scattered uncharacteristically leaving the mess of flesh and bone and blood.

Sokka felt himself change. He was running toward the body at the bottom of the snow valley, every step he took he felt himself grow. He was becoming older. The carcass was no longer a mess of color, he could make out the head and the body, and legs, pawless… Sokka was now fifteen again. He dropped down to his knees next to the animal.

The icy wind was no longer chilling, the iceberg in is gut made everything around him warm. He slowly rolled it over, the wolves had eaten out the snow leopard's entrails and the movement made a small whooshing as parts of the intestine and bile joined the ground. Sokka covered his mouth, "Shit…"

The leopard's head flopped and angled at him, large yellow eyes were focused accusingly. He had seen the look before, once, when he was in a dark place, pressed shoulder to shoulder. The eyes were dead. Staring, he suddenly realized he was still holding the steel trap. And he dropped it at once, unable to differentiate between the dead leopard's stare and the yellow eyes of the banished prince.

Sokka opened his own eyes and realized he was no longer in the snow, a cell, or even on the ship's deck. He lay on his back in the sand; the sunlight was streaming somewhere just above the horizon. He shuddered suddenly and wondered how he had ended up in such a peaceful setting. As he sat up, something caught his wrist. Groggily he tugged back before realizing what was at the other end, but there was no prompted response. Slowly, he sat up, wiping the sleep from his eyes with his good hand.

They lay behind a large piece of driftwood and Sokka rested his back against the log. He vaguely remembered lying on the open beach, smiling. As the memories reached him he also remembered moving up the shoreline and falling, unceremoniously against the log ofr support as the adrenaline in his system died away. The prince had done the same, not a word of criticism or complaint.

The sun was rising beyond the forest in front of them, casting them and the beach in shadow. Sokka shook his head and looked over the log, over the horizon. The ocean was sparkling brilliantly, speaking softly to him in familiar tones as it lapped the shore. Sokka inhaled the soft breeze and turned, looking left, along the coastline. It was a white sun-drenched beach, glowing in the dawn. Above, the sky was clear, except for the black cloud that slowly moved from the far left, growing in size… It was the smoke from a coal burning Fire Nation ship, most likely one of Zhao's.

Sokka ducked down on instinct.

The Water Tribesman swallowed because his throat had become dry and looked over at the prince. The other teen lay sprawled on his side. His eyes were closed and there was no sign of life on his pale face. So Sokka studied him from a distance, watching the fair skinned teen warily as vignettes of the dream haunted the back of his mind. Eventually, gathering his courage in his gut, Sokka scooted over to the deathly looking firebender. He sat on his knees next to the prince and looked down.

Asleep, the prince's features were almost fine and elegant, much like Sokka had always thought royalty should look. But when he was awake any sense of regal elegance was replaced with the stern frown that seemed to linger continuously on his face. And the scar… the terrible scar stared up at Sokka and he found himself thinking if the scar hadn't been placed on the prince's face the other boy would have been remotely handsome - only, of course, to a _woman_.

He dismissed the thought and concentrated on what to do next, assuming the other boy was alive.

Carefully, he placed the back of his free hand near the prince's mouth, feeling for any sign of breathing. There was a soft exhale and warm breath hit his skin, causing him to realize how cold he actually was. As he wished for his parka, he couldn't help wondering how the prince had survived the night in such thin, sleeveless clothing. _But_, he reminded himself, that was beside the point at the moment and he _was_ a firebender.

"Hey," Sokka whispered, rolling the prince on his back and shaking him as gently as he could. "Wake up."

The prince's response was slow for the seasoned warrior Sokka was accustom to seeing. The teen groaned, trying to roll away from the tribesman, but his mind kicked in and he sat up abruptly, wincing at the sudden movement. Taking in the situation the prince laid back against the log. The prince seemed to relax and rolled his shoulders, testing the tense muscles.

The golden stare rested on Sokka with dull accusation, "Where the hell am I?"

"I'm not sure… On a beach?" Sokka said and felt uncomfortable. Sokka avoided the prince's eyes, finding the scar was uncomfortable to stare into. So instead he looked over the firebender's shoulder, where the black smoke was bellowing over the treetops. It was growing ever so closer.

"A Fire Nation ship is coming." Sokka nodded over to the black smoke rising and wet his lips.

Immediately the prince's eyes followed his line of sight and Sokka could see his good eye narrow, again, the chained wrist shook with indistinguishable fear or rage.

"We have to leave. _Now_."

"Where are we going?" Sokka asked as the prince used the driftwood as a brace, pushing himself up. Sokka simply stood.

"It really doesn't matter," the prince said, finally on his feet. "As long as we're away from _him_."

"I completely agree, but…"

"We have a few minutes before they come into view," the prince said quickly, interrupting him, and began to move toward the forest, tugging Sokka along by the wrists.

Sokka followed, because he didn't know what else to do. Zhao had already tried to kill them in the sea, there was no doubt in the boy's mind that the commander would try to do it again on land. Glancing back toward the driftwood, he spotted the outline of their bodies and footprints leading toward the forest.

"We have to cover our tracks," Sokka said quickly and looked toward the forest. The prince seemed to silently agree and followed Sokka to the edge of the undergrowth. The tribesman picked up a fallen branch, inspecting the full thickets of thin leaves. It was heavy and he dragged it toward the driftwood.

"Hurry up," the prince urged, his eyes darting toward the ever-nearing smoke. Sokka could feel his unease and it worried the tribesman, whatever could get under the prince's skin was something to worry about.

Sokka swiftly backtracked and began sweeping it across the sand, erasing any trace of their presence. He was mildly surprised when the prince grasped the branch also, helping him sweep back and forth, erasing their presence. They backed up, toward the forest, continuing to sweep at the sand until it diminished into rock and dirt. They set down branch and Sokka turned toward the ocean in time to see the sharp front of the ship protruding from behind the trees.

"Come on," the prince hissed and caught the tribesman's wrist, plunging them both into the undergrowth.

They moved at a slow run through the trees. Sokka judged, from the mix of tall pines, golden leaved oaks, and small shrubby green underbrush that they were somewhere north, in earthbender territory. He wasn't sure whether the earthbenders would be hospitable. It was unlikely if they were anything like the guards at Omashu. _And _they would be worse, he reasoned, especially considering he was chained to a firebender. Even if the prince was exiled or banished, whatever, he was still loyal to the Fire Nation and Sokka couldn't' trust him. It occurred to him that he had twice as much to watch out for now. He _was_ a prisoner, it couldn't be overlooked.

"Where are we going again?" He dared to ask once more after they were safe within the shade and the prince had slowed down. Around them the woodland closed in ominously and Sokka found it hard to walk side by side with the Prince.

The prince's eyes fell on the Water Tribe boy but he turned away, "A village. Anywhere but here."

It was frustrating; there was no plan. It was dangerous and it was thoughtless and he found himself disagreeing with it, evenit there seemed to be no other alternative. Sokka drew into himself dwelling on his friends. They hadn't come for him and no matter how much he hoped. Even if he'd made her promise… Well, atleast he knew they were safe. He wanted that safety, though. He wanted the security blanket that the Avatar provided, the notion that everything would be okay in the end and they would save the world, the naivety of the twelve year old made him nostalgic.

He knew opening his mouth would lead to something painful, he couldn't help ridicule the other teen, so, he said, letting the cynicism drip from his voice,"Just great. You don't have an fucking idea do you?"

The prince was quick to react to his derision. Grabbing Sokka's shackled wrist and twisting it behind his back the prince pushed the tribesman forward, slamming his chest into the nearest tree. Sokka exhaled painfully as the prince leaned into him, the pressure threatening to crush his ribs.

"And I suppose," the prince said through gritted teeth. "That you would prefer to be back on Zhao's ship." Hot breath reached the back of his neck as the firebender spoke and Sokka wriggled, trying to escape the firebender's hold. "I _saved_ you're life, you are _my_ prisoner, I decide where we're going and we're going _away_. _Don't_ try to belittle me." Nails were digging into the scalded flesh and he was reminded of the sea.

"I saved your life, too! _Twice._" He found himself shouting as he winced and shut his eyes. Thinking back to the battlefield and the ocean, both times holding the prince, dragging him to momentary safety. "Right now, were even - we're the same."

The prince spun Sokka around so they were face to face, keeping the tribesman's shackled hand and his pressed against the boy's chest. "We are not the same," he said in a low venomous voice, face very close to the other boy's, glaring. "We were never, and we will never be. Don't try to compare yourself to me, _peasant_." Roughly the prince let go of the boy's arm.

Sokka could feel the heat rising to his face. The prince was an asshole. Stubbornly, Sokka stood in place as the prince turned away moving into the forest. The chain on their wrists caught and the firebender looked at him with infuriation in his eyes, "I suggest you start moving unless you want me to kill you on the spot."

"I don't think you can," Sokka said defiantly and hopped his bluff was more than just that, a bluff.

"Do you have a death wish, peasant?" The firebender sensed the change in demeanor and the unscathed eye narrowed further. The prince shifted his stance to a defensive posture and continued watching Sokka warily.

"No, but I do know if you do decide to kill me with bending the smoke will attract our favorite commander," Sokka stepped closer to the bender, courage gathering in his being. "And I doubt you want that since you're so _terrified_ of being captured."

"And if I decide to snap your neck?" the prince asked coldly, his fingers twitching as if he was holding himself back. Sokka guessed he _was_, the "terrified" comment was not going over well.

"Then you'd have to drag my dead body to where ever you're going," Sokka said. "If you want to burn me… well that brings us back to what I first said."

They both knew he was right and Sokka was enjoying the twitch in the prince's good eye. The prince seemed to already known the consequences of killing the other boy, but hadn't intended for the tribesman to use it against him. There was a small sense of victory in the back of Sokka's mind - he'd stood up to the banished prince of the Fire Nation and won. _For now_, his reason nagged. The prince could be unpredictable, but as long as his loathing (or fear) of Zhao was greater than his dislike for the water tribesman, Sokka assumed he would stay alive.

Infuriated, the prince turned away, sparks flying from his fingertips, causing Sokka to jump back a bit and shake his wrist. Zuko refused to acknowledge the water tribesman's victory, so instead he said, "Don't tempt me, peasant."

"By the way, its '_Sokka'_," the tribesman called after him, struggling to keep up. "The 'peasant' thing is really getting old."

The prince pushed a branch back, sidestepped it, and let go. There was a satisfying cry from behind him and the peasant known as 'Sokka' devolved into incoherent grumbling, taking to kicking rocks at the back of the prince's boots.

They had lapsed into silence as the sun reached an apex in the sky. It had been the water tribesman's idea to travel upstream, _in_ the stream. It would throw off anyone who tried to track them, he'd said, before plunging into the ankle deep water. Zuko was sure the water was cold when the boy winced and the prince agreed, stepping in himself. There was a sadistic pleasure found in watching the other teen rub his shoulders and complain, constantly, about the water's temperature and how the chill spread up his body.

Noticing the firebender's stare, Sokka looked at him asking, "Aren't you cold?"

"Standard infantry boots are waterproof. Mine are insulated," he said it smugly, letting the other teen seethe and turn away resentfully.

"You're such a bastard," the teen grumbled and rubbed his shoulders again looking into the sky, it was clear. There was no defensive reply and Sokka tilted his head looking at the prince. He couldn't see the scar.

"So…" Sokka let the words hang in the air, searching for a comfortable subject. There was a rumble that stopped both in their tracks. Sokka was almost sure it was some form of animal, and the prince seemed to think the same, standing defensively in the icy water.

The growl came again and there was a stabbing feeling in Sokka's stomach. He realized he hadn't eaten in over a day; he was _starved_.

**--- **

Zuko stood by the silly Water Tribe boy as he _tried_ to spear a fish. They had stopped when the stream led toward a small pond, the sun now westward and growing lower. His own stomach was telling him he needed nourishment, but it wasn't as loud as the other teen's. He was a liability, Zuko found himself thinking; if he didn't slow the prince down he would attract unwanted attention, both with his mouth and his stomach.

The "spear" consisted of a willowy rod, broken sharply at one end, becoming blunt with every attempt. Expectedly Sokka missed again and cursed. Throwing the stick into the water, he turned away.

"_You_ want to give it a try?" Sokka asked Zuko huffily at the prince's condescending expression.

The prince raised his arm, indicating the cuffs, he was right handed after all. "You want to take these off?"

Zuko let the tugging at his wrists draw him away from the water. It was difficult, he thought, watching the boy of his age laugh and smile. But talking with the boy, interacting with him, playing the role of a teenager - that, Zuko found, was awkward. The dark skinned boy seemed unaware of the danger so near to him… or, perhaps, he was aware, yet chose to ignore it, which Zuko was unable to do.

"So," the Idiot, as Zuko has branded him, asked and moved toward the bushes, foraging for anything edible. "Why are you after Aang - I mean _the Avatar_ anyway?"

"My forefathers have hunted him for a hundred years," Zuko said. "He'll insure the Fire Nation's victory and my honor."

"Let me get this straight," Sokka pulled himself out of the bushes and stared at the prince, pieces of undergrowth sticking out of his hair. "You're willing to sacrifice the fate of the world for your honor?" He shook his head and turned away. "And my sister calls me _selfish_."

"It's more than that, you fool," Zuko said and wondered if the loud-mouthed boy had any tact at all. He dared speak to prince in such a manner. "My life rests on catching the Avatar - whether he's ten or a hundred, it doesn't matter."

"You _are_ selfish," the Idiot said. "And by the way, he's only twelve."

Zuko felt his chest flicker and inhaled, calming himself. Setting the Idiot ablaze was tempting, but with Zhao's ship so close - and his men, most likely, already on the beach- he couldn't risk the chance. Bodies burned slowly, Zuko remembered and he didn't have the time.

There was an upside to the loud-mouthed boy; if he continued talking he would (probably) reveal the whereabouts of the Avatar. He shook his head to clear it. With the Avatar he could dishonor that bastard in front of the royal court - everyone. The Avatar was more than just his honor now. He was vengeance, and Zuko felt a sense of urgency welling in him. It mattered; there was only a limited amount of time…

"Hey," the Water Tribe boy waved his hand in front of the prince's face. "There's a bush of lantern berries over there, mind moving?"

Silent and exasperated, Zuko pushed through the underbrush, following the elated Water Tribesman.

The "bush" turned out to be more of a vine with small fruits incased in a lantern-like skin. Upon further inspection, Zuko found a small ruby fruit the size of his uncle's lotus tile inside, petite and red. He ate the berry and grimaced at the acidic after taste, it wasn't unpleasant, just unexpected. Like eating blood, swallowing it, seeds and all.

"You don't want to eat the stem or casings," Sokka said through a mouthful of berries, watching Zuko with bright eyes. Adding, "They're somewhat poisonous," as an after thought.

The cold knife that was deception ran through the prince's spine. If the other boy had wanted to poison him he could have easily. Yet, Zuko suspected the other didn't want to deal with the transportation of his corpse. The rift between them had grown.

"It's an acquired taste, I guess," Sokka said and swallowed, the bulging mass of fruit somehow slipping down his throat. "Aang doesn't really like them either."

Zuko scoffed internally at being compared to the Avatar (he wasn't one the Idiot's friends) and ate another berry to spite the boy. This time he didn't grimace. Indifferently he leaned against the tree the vines snaked along and asked, "How does someone from the Water Tribe know so much about the Earth Kingdom forests?"

The other teen raised an eyebrow at the prince's sudden interest. "My father taught me," he said and ate another berry. His voice was proud. "He fought with earthbenders during the siege on Bai Sing Sei and picked up a few tricks. I suppose your father taught you how to bend?"

"No," Zuko said laconically and looked to the sky. It was clear. "I had my uncle, and tutors, they taught me when my father had more pressing matters to attend to."

"Matter more important than his son? That's pretty harsh."

Zuko turned a dark glare to the other boy, "I don't expect you to understand my family's ways. After all, you grew up in an igloo somewhere on that godforsaken chunk of ice, I'm royalty."

The subject burned him. His father was not a man to stoop and bestow time on teaching his son something basic, something another could teach. It wasn't logical but it wasn't fair. There had been a candle within him, a small flame in his chest, that ate away at the wax. Zuko felt it flame up, burning faster, harder, bright, darker. He was jealous and the notion was scornful.

"Judging from your tribe's size, I'd say your men haven't come back from battle yet," Zuko was, slowly, letting the flame overtake him. Bluest eyes stared back at him, defiant in silence. There was the urge from somewhere in his stomach to close them permanently. "Most of the Fire Nation's victories have been in the south. I wouldn't look forward to a cheery family reunion any time soon."

The other boy looked as if the berry's toxins were kicking in. Hate filled the pools of his eyes and he was livid. But then, a great calm swept over him and he turned his eyes to the ground. The reaction startled the prince; it wasn't expected.

"So, who banished you?" No, no murderous intent at all; just weak attacks, dull jabs at the ribs, poking fun and then a slash to the jugular: "Your father, huh?"

A feral growl escaped the firebender as he found himself trapped and caged. There was no way out, there was no answer he could give without the figurative razor slicing through his throat. He chose silence. Roughly turning away, pulling Sokka along with him. The boy yelped and stumbled after. Wisely, the barrage of questions ended and silence followed.

The answer, nevertheless, was known to both of them and Zuko couldn't help but feel the cracks in his armor grate together mockingly.

It matters not, it matters not, it matters not… though. His bandaged arm reached to the back of his neck and traced a small incision. It mattered not, if they were marked - both of them.

**--- **

Nightfall brought the creatures out and drove them into a ravine for shelter. Assuming safety under a tree's large roots, they settle in for the hours of darkness to come. It was Sokka's idea, again, to pack the crevice with dry leaves. For warmth, he said, and lay down cursing the cold air, the moon's dimness through he trees, and the firebender's insistence on meditation.

The prince had sat next to him with his legs woven together in an uncomfortable looking position. His eyes were closed and his breathing controlled. Sokka felt like disturbing him, wanting to break the silence and the sounds of night, but he held back.

There was a closeness between them that kept him from moving as the prince's right wrist drew his fist along his outer thigh. Closeness that made him remember back to the sea where he was pressed tight against the other boy, holding on to him with the hope of both their survival.

It was different now.

They fought with words and gestures. They couldn't kill each other, so they fought, throwing their family, blood, and knowledge like blasting jelly grenades. Sokka couldn't deny that he had stabbed the prince twice. First waiting for the teen to eat the berries, then telling him of their properties. He'd meant it as a warning: Don't think your so great and powerful, your _highness_. I'm not an idiot. And secondly, he'd plunged his dagger straight into the prince's heart, bleeding what blood that was left out of Zuko's chest at the mention of his father and banishment.

It was all different now.

Sleep was dancing his eyelids closed when he felt the prince shift and lay down next to him. Fingers brushing his palm. He opened one eye to peek at the firebender and found the other teen staring back. Rather disturbed, he opened both eyes and turned on his side, facing the bender.

"What is it?" he asked.

"Do you have a cut on the back of your neck?" The question was odd. Sokka reached behind his head and felt the skin. Indeed there was an abrasion, small and deep; it itched on contact.

"Yeah." He said and asked, "why?"

There was a hesitant pause before the firebender reached over with his bandaged arm, resting it on Sokka' shoulders. Two warm fingers trailing down the base of his neck finding the wound, fingering it, and pulling back. Sokka shivered as the prince drew away and rolled onto his back.

"I think Zhao marked us, that's all."

Something was being kept for him, locked away in the firebender's golden eyes. Clandestine and protected, it prodded him and laughed at his ignorance.

"Oh." There was another pause and Sokka was becoming tired of the silence between them. "Do you have one?"

"Yes."

There was not much to be said after that point; Sokka wrapped his free arm around himself. It was cold.

"You do realize the complication of your situation," the prince's voice cut through the darkness. "This isn't some fun little quest. When I get back to my ship and the record is set straight, you will be treated like the prisoner you are. Don't expect anything special because of this situation."

"Yeah…" Sokka said quietly into the tangle of roots above him. "I know."

"Good." The leaves cracked as Zuko shifted a bit, finding a comfortable position.

The prince was an arrogant, self-centered, bastard with a softly sleeping face. Sokka preferred to remember the ocean, or even, the hasty moments when they drug the branch across the sand, erasing the outlines of their bodies - erasing their time in the sea, their codependency on one and other.

He'd been naïve at first, and he knew it, but the feeling was good. The boy next to him could almost have been a friend, something like Aang or, even, Katara. But the branch swept it all away and they'd plunged into turmoil, into the trees.

Sokka felt any sense of friendship between them die in the darkness.

**To Be Continued In…**

**Chapter Six:**_** There Is Not Much Left of Me**_

Breaking points are reached and Sokka uses his last weapon against Zuko.

[_edited 03.14.2009_]


	6. There Is Not Much Left of Me

**Chapter Six: There Is Not Much Left of Me**

It hurt. Oh gods. _Fuck_. It hurt.

His eyes were focusing in the darkness, watching the roots above his head appear out of the black. The dull throb of his muscles as he tried to move his legs, bending his knees slightly, and stretch his back, burned him inside. Breathing, moving, living; hurt. The pain was telling him he was undeniably alive, but he felt otherwise. So, trusting neither his mind nor his insides, he let the heat from the body pressed shoulder to shoulder remind him of _everything_.

Zuko rolled onto his side to look at the Water Tribe boy, who was snoring softly. He regarded the boy's angular face with distain and inside his chest, the candle burned and flared. Just glancing at the other teen could ignite his emotions, jealousy, anger, wrath… He didn't know if he could take another day with the tribesman.

It wasn't proper, he assumed, to envy the brunette. After all, he was a prince, royalty; people went to their knees for him. The boy was a peasant and Zuko felt he justly labeled him so. _But_ - and the proverbial "but" seemed to be a constant factor in the prince's life - _but_ the tribesman had the upper hand in the woods. _But_ the tribesman was physically stronger at the moment, whether Sokka realized it or not, and Zuko loathed to admit it. _But_ the tribesman wasn't banished. _But_ his father had taught him how to survive…

The prince swallowed, finding his throat dry.

The Idiot, the _peasant_, Sokka, was the cause of his problems. Zuko had taken his hand. He could have batted it away, shot him, burned him, sent him away, but he took his hand. It was a subconscious move, driven by the desperation in his mind and the fatigue his body was racked with. In all sanity, Zuko knew he would have turned it away.

Zuko's tongue found the sore in his cheek. And Zhao. He'd used the prince's connection with Sokka as a preposterous distraction. It worked and he felt the shame creeping up his throat again.

He slid his left hand along his stomach, tracing the damage he knew was under the cloth. The bruises on his ribs, fingernail sized scrapes across his torso, Zhao's signature on his neck… they all were Sokka's fault… and, yet, Zuko couldn't help but feel the blame also lay within himself. For being too weak, for being too slow, for fulfilling Zhao's words. Being _nothing_.

And even after that shameful act, the Idiot's presence pulled him into undesirable situations. It wasn't a kiss, he repeated again in his mind. Kisses weren't something the prince dwelled on; he never had. In youth he was taught day in and day out, bending, literature, geography, arts of war, and the like. Ladies of the court approached him but never had any gotten close enough to touch his skin, often settling for his robes or shadow, and still his mind made no connection to them sexually. Banished, he looked to his honor and father; forsaking the stops his men often took to the shady ports where women in painted faces smiled invitingly and drew them away into the night. Yet, there he had been - shoulder to shoulder with an enemy, smashing lips together, sliding his own tongue into the other boy's mouth.

If anyone had seen…

The tarnish on his honor spread like a cancer - slow and never ending. Eventually, he felt, it would eat him out, hollow him. But he couldn't let that happen. He would survive and capture the Avatar, regain his father's love and respect… become honorable enough to take the thrown, rule the nation, and become the son his father meant to rear.

Flecks of dirt fell from the roots and Zuko closed his eyes, rubbing at them with his free hand.

Pain again; he was alive and hunted.

The cry of a komodo rhino echoed through the forest and from the intensity Zuko speculated the firebenders were on the bank of the ravine - just above them. He lay frozen, blood icy and breath stalled. He could not be caught in such a mud hole with the tribesman.

"Anything?" He heard a man's voice call out.

"Nothing!" was the answered from a farther vicinity.

Of course, then, the Idiot next to him groaned and mumbled, "Ten more minutes, Aaaaaang…!"

Rolling quickly, he was atop the other boy; his free hand over the Idiot's mouth, his other hand holding the boy's right wrist down, legs tangled. At once Sokka fought back, bucking and twisting, until he seemed to realize the prince wasn't intent on killing him in the night. He lay still and the prince's hand slowly slid off his lips, resting somewhere near his head. Zuko balled his fist in pain, the healing bones had been jostled during the Idiot's fit. It hurt, but he doubted they had been disjoined.

Outside, the rhino grunted again and Zuko placed his chin on the tribesman's left shoulder, hissing into Sokka's ear, "Zhao's men. Quiet." The other teen physically shivered as the scar tissue grazed his cheek but nodded silently.

"Did you hear that?" the first man asked and Sokka's heart pounded against Zuko's chest. "What was it?"

"I don't know, sir. But it came from somewhere in the riverbed!" a third, new, voice spoke up. Zuko wondered how many there were.

"Search it! Left to right, let's go!"

The ground shook as the komodo rhino moved along the bank. They were drawing farther away. Muffled voices called back to one and another, drown out by two hearts beating rapidly and shallowed breathing. Seconds crawled by and the voices grew louder again.

_Left to right! Left to right! _Zuko's mind was screaming. The benders were slowly making their way up the ravine, checking the crevasses and roots. Soon, the prince speculated, they would be on top of them. Zuko let go of the tribesman's wrist and pushed himself up so he could look down at the boy.

Wide blue eyes met his and, taking a deep breath, the boy sighed, whispering weakly, "Your heavy…"

Zuko stammered for what to say next, suddenly noticing the awkwardness of the their bodies pressing together. It had never occurred to the prince, but there was a definite sexual undertone about one on the other, faces pressed cheek to cheek, listening to the other's breathing. But, he reasoned, it was like passing the key. Necessary.

"Be ready to move on my signal," he whispered finally and the other teen nodded, beginning to wriggle into a crouching position.

As silently as he could Zuko removed himself from atop the tribesman. It was a heinous process, as the leaves began to crackle under his weight. His own muscles had become stiff during the night; quick movements shot shockwaves of pain through his body. He ignored it all. Motioning for Sokka to follow, he moved toward the gap in the roots and looked out. There were human forms painted silver, flickering along the ravine's walls.

Zuko looked to the right and found no signs of the firebenders; instead the great dark mouth faced him, the riverbed leading into the forest, open and foreboding.

"Come on," he whispered and, crouching low, began to move out of the leave-ridden hole. He could feel Sokka moving behind him by the tugging at his wrist. The other boy was slow, his own muscles beginning to awake.

Once both teens were out, Zuko glanced toward the tribesman and nodded upward, to the bank. They slowly began to climb the sloping ground. Zuko could feel the twitch in his right leg begin to start but he ignored it. The bank was steep but laden with roots, which provided footing and grips. Seconds past like lifetimes and Zuko felt his wrist being tugged upward. It bothered him that the tribesman was moving faster than he was.

Zuko's hand caught level ground as Sokka was pulling himself up. The tribesman jerked his wrist upward, causing Zuko to lose his grasp on the ledge. The prince caught a started flash of blue before he slipped down the ravine, stopping only because of the manacle at his wrist. With his left hand he gabbed at a loose root and anchored himself. He had to catch his footing quickly as his injured arm sent shockwaves of warning through his body, he couldn't' hold on for long.

Pieces of rock and soil met the riverbed with a soft rumble and crash. Immediately the attention of the firebenders was caught and a large flame was shot into the air. The darkness was dispatched and the entire area was tinted by orange flame.

Only seconds before, Zuko felt Sokka pull him up and he pushed forward, scrambling loudly up the bank. He collided with the tribesman's chest and felt the other move quickly, spinning them both sideways until they were against the bark of a large oak tree. Zuko ignored the bark pressing into his back, more intent on breathing silently. Sokka was against him, chests pressed together, breathing in shallow unison. As the light died around them, the glint in the tribesman's eyes told Zuko he was not going to die easily.

"What the hell was that for, private?" The commanding officer shouted at the fire starter.

"Sorry, s-sir, I heard some movement."

There was a sign and the higher officer said, "Well I heard nothing, private."

The voices were moving closer and closer and Zuko knew it was time to move. In the darkness, he pushed Sokka off him. He could see the other boy's face in the moonlight and he motioned into the trees with his free hand. Sokka nodded and they began to move through the underbrush.

The night was dark under the trees and pieces of moonlight were seeping through the leaves at they crashed through the undergrowth. Zuko winced as he heard another shout from the riverbed behind them. The soldiers had probably heard them - or found their leave filled shelter.

"We need to move faster," he urged, turning their jog into a sprint. Sokka was beside him, breathing hard but keeping pace.

The tree line was breaking in front of them and a vast meadow spread out like a carpet. Zuko cursed the gods; there was little cover in the knee-high grass. He planned to move along the tree line, around the meadow. There was no way he would let Zhao's men have an opportunity to capture him so easily.

"Wait." Sokka stopped and the prince followed in suit. "Listen."

Zuko froze, his ears straining for any sound the tribesman would find more important than their flight. Slowly the crashing sound caught his ears, it was the sound of cascading water, a waterfall. Zuko wasn't sure of the waterfall's relevance, but the tribesman had a plan and what ever the plan was it was more than the prince had.

"C'mon," Sokka grabbed his wrist and turned rushed toward the sound.

They cut across part of the meadow and plunged back into the trees. By that time Zuko had broken free of Sokka's grasp and began to dodge the underbrush and low hanging branches. The sound was becoming louder and louder, the trees were taller and a sense of foreboding filled the prince. It could have been the fatigue or starvation or combination of both, but his stomach sank as the glistening silver stream in front of him appeared through the trees.

The trees ceased and the rough water lapped the bank of a large river. Sokka was looking at the waterfall intently and began to jog toward it.

"Usually," Zuko heard Sokka explain. "The water hollows out the rock over time, so assuming this waterfall is pretty old, there should be space _behind_ the water."

They stopped as the ground was transformed from earth to large rocks. Slippery and silver in the moonlight, the boulders adorned the base of the waterfall. Sokka led the way as they began to make their way atop the boulders, using smaller rocks as stepping-stones.

The crashing sound was deafening and Zuko felt the soft wet mist begin to cling to his skin and clothing. It was cold and it bothered him, the moister in the air would retard his bending abilities. Behind the waterfall, he guessed, would be worse. The Idiot had led him right into a trap. Sokka was bracing himself against the rock and dirt as he inched toward the side of the waterfall. Zuko followed him, keeping his disadvantage in mind. Sokka, he assumed, would be much easier to subdue than twenty of Zhao's men.

"It's perfect," Sokka exclaimed as he inched toward the small gap between water and rock.

Zuko watched him slide through as the mist thoroughly dampened his clothes. He followed Sokka and began to step into the cavern. A sharp sting cut through his shoulder as the speeding liquid made contact with his skin. Moving quickly he jumped back against he rock and hurriedly stepped into the crevice.

Inside it was cold and wet. Water was lapping at his boots as Sokka pulled him toward the back of the hallowed out cave. It wasn't as cavernous as Zuko expected - only about as deep as the flying bison was long and less than its height. Above them many boulders were jammed together in an unsafe looking roofing. Zuko imagined the boulders becoming loose and falling, crushing both teens instantly.

Sokka found a patch of semidry rock and sat down, leaving enough room for the prince to sit and lay back against the stone wall. Zuko drew his knees toward his chest and shivered involuntarily. He concentrated on his breathing, slowly warming his body by warming his own blood. The sensation began to spread from his chest outward until it reached his fingertips. Somewhere in the back of his mind, the warm image of his uncle offering him tea flashed. He wondered what became of Iroh and his crew - he'd known many of the men since the beginning. He could not have lost them to Zhao.

His wrist was jerked violently and Zuko's attention was turned back to the water tribe boy. He had begun to take of his boots, shaking out the water. Unfortunately the task required two hands, one of which was attached to Zuko.

"Oh," Sokka muttered as he noticed the prince's stare in the dim light. "Sorry." He didn't sound very sorry to Zuko.

"Did your father teach you this trick too?"

The question was meant as a reminder. He was a peasant, probably an orphan by now. Sokka seemed to miss the connotation and shook his head, "No. I thought of this myself. I used to find glaciers hollowed out by melting ice in the summer, so I thought: why not rock?"

Zuko wasn't willing to admit the Idiot had a brain somewhere in his thick skull. It was all luck. The waterfall and the fact he had been awake when the patrol came to the riverbed. All luck. He found himself thinking back further; it was lucky they had the survivors of the forty-first battalion on their side. It was lucky Zhao was overconfident and carelessly allowed the guards in the hull to stay in the chamber above. Everything they survived on - luck.

It was all borrowed time now.

"Hey," Sokka said after pouring out his second boot. "Could you start a fire or something? It's freezing in here."

"I don't think so, it's not safe." The idea was preposterous. He couldn't firebend in the humidity and even if he could the fire would most likely attract the other benders in the area.

The peasant snorted and put his damp boot back on, crossing his legs. "I don't see how you can stay warm in _that_."

"I can, and that's all that matters," Zuko said taking note of his sleeveless shirt. Zuko was beginning to feel the chill creep up on him; his cloths were clinging to his skin uncomfortably. He closed his eyes and opened them in time to notice the light creeping through the water, into the darkness he and Sokka shared. Daybreak.

There was a soft rumble from Sokka's stomach and he put a hand to it, muttering to himself, "I wish I saved some of those berries."

"Don't you ever stop your insatiable whining?" Zuko asked and glared the best he could in the darkness.

The Idiot was offended and snapped back, "Do you ever stop being a selfish bastard?"

The urge to kill the Idiot rose within him again. It wasn't the words or the tone of his voice - it _was_ his voice. Zuko decided he hated it alone with Sokka's eyes, both were a clear representation of his character: defiant and fearful, sarcastic and clever, hostile and proud. He hated them all.

"Better a bastard than an orphan," Zuko said callously. Smashing the rose tinted glass surrounding the Idiot's world seemed to be satasfying. Zuko leaned in toward him and Sokka leaned back on instinct. "Your father is dead…" A smirk graced his lips, twisting them cruelly. "And you'll join him soon. I'll make sure you do."

There was fear flashing in those blue eyes but Sokka glared back, holding the prince's gaze the best he could. "At least," he snarled back. "My father _loves_ me."

It was like the sound of tearing cloth. Zuko grabbed Sokka's front and drug him to his feet, holding him with his right hand. "How dare you imply that my father doesn't love me!"

Sokka was beyond frightened but he continued, "Your father banished you, right? He sent you to find the Avatar, right? The Avatar hadn't been seen for a hundred years; don't' you think he meant to banish you for good!"

Zuko had pulled Sokka away from their ledge and slammed him roughly against the opposite wall. His heart was pounding in his ears as he gripped the other boy's hand, threatening to break it. "It was my fault, I spoke out of turn! My father was _kind_ enough to spare my life and give me a second chance!"

Sokka struggled against the prince's vice-like grip, "A second chance? I don't' know why you believe that shit." He glared back at the prince boldly. "Get a fucking clue."

There was a pause as Zuko dropped his head. He'd spent countless nights staring at the ceiling off his quarters, contemplating his banishment. He'd replayed it over and over again, starting from the war room. He refused to believe his father's intentions were to banish him for good. He'd been give a chance, which was more than most traitors were allowed. But he never was a traitor. He agreed his banishment was unfair. His father had to uphold a reputation and… It was his entire fault; he'd spoken out of turn. Disrespect. He deserved it.

"Perhaps," Zuko said staring at Sokka with pure hate. "I should kill you right here."

Sokka's hands were fixed on trying to break the prince's grip. Nails dug into his flesh as Sokka realized Zuko was intent on killing him. With his free hand Zuko caught Sokka's neck, his thumb crushing into the larynx, cutting the boys oxygen supply off. Sokka's hands traveled to the hand at his neck, scratching and clawing at the bandages and flesh in a desperate attempt to survive.

He had begun to thrash, but he was held in place as Zuko pressed his body against him for leverage. Sokka's eyes portrayed fear unclothed and pure. Zuko found his stomach wretch and twist as the struggling teen became weaker.

Sokka choked and Zuko pressed harder. He noticed the skin bruise as he shifted his thumb for better coverage. Hesitance had begun to creep into his blood. Similar marks adorned his neck and he was reminded of how they were similar. The mad rage in his blood began to subside.

He needed the boy alive.

It was sudden. Sokka's right leg hooked around his left and pulled inward, breaking Zuko's balance. There was little time to react as Sokka's body weight collided with his own causing him to stumble backward and fall, water splashing around his head and in his vision.

**--- **

He gasped for breath. Sokka pushed himself half way off the other boy and stared down at the other teen's prone form. They had landed painfully in shallow water. The prince's back colliding with the rocky floor, his torso curving in an upward arc on the uneven ground. His bandaged arm caught between his body and rock.

There was helplessness in the position and Sokka shifted himself so that he held the prince's chained hand in the water, palm down. With his free hand he caught the front of the prince's shirt and held tight. His right thigh pinned Zuko's pelvis down as he bent over the fair skinned teen.

"You know I almost believed you weren't like the rest of your kind," he said, making sure Zuko's gaze was focused on him. Sokka found himself staring at the scar, heat building up inside his chest. "But I guess all firebenders are the same, banished or not."

"Get off me," the golden eye was glazed with confusion and pain. Zuko struggled, trying to arch further and throw the tribesman off him, but it was futile. He was pinned and Sokka knew it. An overwhelming sense of vengeance was spreading through him as the scar burned in his vision. Sokka glowered down at the prince, images dancing behind his eyes, images of flame licking flesh, charred.

Sokka knew he could kill the bender - maybe in the same way the bender had tried to kill him. But Sokka's insides twisted and he knew he had to tell the bender. He wanted to see the look in the teen's eyes, just before he wrapped his right hand around his throat and watched his eyes die.

"Do you know why I hate firebenders?" There was an undeniable antipathy for the prince welling in his stomach where hunger had been. "Being the pampered little brat you are I don't think you can understand what it's like to lose someone you love."

"Why you… What are you talking about?" The prince gasped out, the pressure from Sokka's balled fist on his chest seemed to slow his response. Sokka held onto the cloth and pressed the fist farther down. The firebender winced but stayed silent, livid with anger.

"My mother!" Sokka found himself yelling. "You bastards killed her." There was a faint hint of recognition in Zuko's eyes that almost made Sokka stop, but he refused to fall prey to the weakness again. He twisted the cloth in his hand. "She was totally innocent and you killed her!"

"What…? I didn't do…" The prince was glaring back. He seemed to realize Sokka was grouping all firebenders together. Stereotyped. Generalized. "If she was killed it was because she was a threat!"

Sokka jerked Zuko's shirt upward, drawing his chest forward, and then punched down. This time the prince responded; a rough gasp of pain. Sokka continued pushing his fist into the firebender's chest, threatening to crush the hard bone. The fingers holding Zuko's cuffed wrist dug their nails into the bandages, deep enough to be felt in the pale flesh.

"She wasn't a threat!" Sokka said in a low voice. Inwardly, it scared him, but the firebender's pain was enough to drive him to continue, "We weren't doing anything. Then _they_ came. They killed most of my tribe and they killed her…"

Zuko's head tilted to the side, the unscarred side of his face opposite Sokka. "I can't justify the measures my nation has taken during this war," he said in a calm voice. Sokka could have been fooled into thinking this was an apology but there was nothing in his voice that indicated guilt. "But neither can I justify your tribe's opposition."

"You already destroyed our cities. We were in hiding. There was no _opposition_." Sokka balled the cloth tighter in his hand so that the damp fibers were tight across the prince's back and the pale, marred flesh of his stomach began to show. Sokka felt his gut drop and he leaned in toward the prince, making sure his lips grazed the prince's ear for effect.

"Do you know what they did to my mother?" The prince shivered. Sokka could see his eyes taking on the dead stare, focusing on something that was nonexistent.

"They didn't _just_ kill her," he was enjoying the prince's body writhe weakly. He leaned in further, letting go of the prince's front and sliding the hand to his waist. His thumb caught in the prince's navel and his fingers extended out, gripping the rigid, warm flesh for support.

"They came into our home and caught her." Fingers turned inward, nails biting into the skin, breaking it. "They played with her; undressed her, violated her, _fucked_ her, and then they burned her alive. I watched the whole thing… _the whole fucking thing_."

Sokka heard Zuko's breath hitch. It was silent; the sound of the waterfall filled the space. He had scared the prince. Sokka whispered into the firebender's ear, "I suppose if I did the same thing to their heir… it would be somewhat even."

His free hand slid under the prince's shirt finding a soft spot by the ribs that caused Zuko to gasped. The struggle the firebenders provided seemed halfhearted at the least. As Sokka pressed further, deeper into his ribs his neck craned and mouth opened in a gasp. Instead of a release of pent up air, Zuko's fragile voice pleaded, "Don't…"

Sokka felt the firebender stop struggling. Zuko's head turned and his mismatched eyes stared at the roof of the cavern, looking right through the tribesman. Again he repeated, "Don't."

"'Don't' what?" Sokka asked harshly and stared down at the bender. "Do you think I want it this way? You'll kill me if I don't kill you first, and I'd be damned if I don't put you through some form of hell before you're dragged to the underworld."

The firebender's eyes focused and locked with Sokka's hard stare. The golden orbs were raw with an emotion Sokka had never seen before. He was almost sure Zuko was hysteric inside.

"Drown me, suffocate me, I don't care. Just don't…" the prince said and tilted his head up and Sokka suddenly saw it under the jaw line, the incisions of teeth, bruised skin. They were not from Zhao's hands. His own hand trailed along the prince's chest finding a set of four welts. He rested his fingers along them, trailing downward, only stopping short of the waist when Zuko involuntarily shook.

"Don't…please. Don't," and then, choked, pleadingly, "Not again."

Sokka rolled off the other boy, his back painfully making an acquaintance with the nearby stone ledge. It took him a second to realize his right hand was shaking. He made a fist, the reality of the situation crawled into his mind, seeping into the cracks and synapses of his brain. In his stomach, hunger and disgust began to churn. He had to breath and swallow a few times to keep the bile in his throat from rising any further.

"Fuck."

It was harder to look at the prince. He hadn't moved since Sokka withdrew and the tribesman wasn't sure if the water collecting and running across the prince's cheeks was from mist, sweat, or tears. Zuko looked lifeless, only the rise and fall of his chest provided any clue to his continuing mortality.

As he watched, the arch of Zuko's body along the rock and the sun's early rays shining on his pristine skin made him unearthly - like something fallen from the clouds. His shirt was still pulled up and rumpled in the front. In the pale skin of his stomach Sokka saw the welts - four deep gashes running down his torso and disappearing at his waist, where the black pants cut them off. They extended further. They were not from the battle. Sokka knew; it must have been Zhao.

"Oh gods…" Sokka pulled his knees toward his chest, securing them with his free hand. "Shit … Oh god…"

There were tears welling in the back of his eyes, threatening to break through and cascade down his face. He could see his mother in the prince and it frightened him because he could see the faceless soldiers from seven years ago in himself. This time the bile did escape his throat and he leaned over, letting the insipid fluid mix with the water and float toward the waterfall where it was washed away.

He coughed and scooped a hand of fresh water with his free hand and drank it, trying to wash the taste from his mouth. It was worse than blood.

The sudden tug at his wrist caught him of guard and he turned abruptly to face the prince, expecting the other teen to pin him to the rock wall again. There was a soft splash as the firebender slid over and sat next to him, shoulder to shoulder. Physically the firebender had managed to appear intact, but, under the clothing and skin, Sokka was sure Zuko was broken too.

"Don't apologize," Zuko said in a familiar voice.

Sokka felt his arm shake with fatigue; their physical conditions were catching up. Zuko was exhausted - pained from the near escapes and weak from bending the previous night. Sokka was hungry, the lack of edibles causing his hands to shake and his mind to spin. They were both surviving on sheer will power.

Sokka felt his emotional walls shatter as the prince's hand brushed his; the far-off look returning to the snow leopard-like eyes. Sokka knew where his companion's mind was drifting and he leaned his head back against the rock.

"It was a clear day…" There was no reason to continue, but Sokka felt himself drifting too. Back to his village and a time he had locked away within himself. "I was supposed to go with my father and the other men on a hunting expedition. It was that time of year, but I was scared." He took a breath, not sure if the firebender was listening to him. "So I ended up staying with my mother and sister. I was eight, she was seven. I remember her asleep.

"Mom was making Katara some new boots when they came. There wasn't any time to hide so she put Katara and me under a table and pushed a bag of furs and clothes and bedding to hide us - it was the best she could do…"

The familiar weight of the prince shifted on Sokka's left side as Zuko leaned against the tribesman. His eyes stared at the glistening wall in front of them. The sun was rising and the darkness was expelled, but the cavern still held a familiar tone - like the holding cell on Zhao's ship hours before their escape. Sokka found it comfortable if only because at that moment they had reach a crossroads and could finally face each other.

"I saw her leaving us. I wanted to run after her, to tell her to take Katara - or something stupid like that - but I was too scared. I didn't know she was trying to lead them away from us. I just sat there and told Katara to go back to sleep. Even when she was pushed back in, bloody and stumbling, I couldn't move.

"All I could do was hold Katara and cover her ears, hoping she didn't wake up. I couldn't look away either. I was so pathetic… I couldn't look away and I saw it _all_." He laughed dryly and the prince's cautious eyes drifted away from the wall. "The worst part was the day after, when my grandmother hid the body from Katara. She buried her own daughter and explained to her granddaughter and son-by-law that 'Mommy' wasn't coming back.

"I didn't tell her but I think she always knew I'd seen…" Sokka stopped as the burning in his throat rose and threatened to push the tears, welled up behind his eyes, out.

He had changed himself since the age of eight. Picking up his fathers weapons, practicing the techniques the men in the tribe taught him before they left. He had always dreamt of the day he'd cross a firebender and kill him slowly, just like their kind killed his mother. But now he was sitting shoulder to shoulder with the first firebender he'd ever met, spilling out his soul, because that particular firebender had become to familiar to kill.

"I believe," Zuko exhaled and met Sokka's gaze at the corner of his good eye, "this makes us two more casualties of this godforsaken war."

**To Be Continued In…**

**Chapter Six:**_** Smoke Lifting From The Ground**_

What happened under the waterfall, stays under the waterfall. Zuko and Sokka try to continue their journey but the pervious morning haunts both boys.

[_edited 03.15.2009_]


	7. Yesterday Seems As Though It Never Exist

**Chapter Seven: Yesterday Seems As Though It Never Existed**

"Yes! Finally!"

The silver belly of a trout glinted as Zuko watched Sokka pull it out of the water. The willow branch functioning as a spear was lodged through the fish's middle and, as the small animal wriggled, blood dripped from the wound. Sokka proudly cast the fish aside, into the grass, and dislodged the spear. He turned back toward the water, waiting for another to swim close enough.

Zuko was crouched next to the water tribe boy, watching as the other teen tried to spear the glinting shadows in the stream. The prince held his right hand out, over the water, moving his hand in a semicircular motion left to right, warming it and sending the fish toward Sokka, toward the cooler area. Sokka bit his lower lip and the spear found another target.

After catching three more, for a total of four, Sokka announced it was enough. Taking the sharp-sided rock he'd used to sharpen the willow rod, the tribesman gutted the fish. There was perverse silence as dark hands held the silver, wriggling animal and spilled its entrails into the stream. Zuko felt his stomach churn, but he wasn't sure if it was only his hunger.

"You'd think they'd figure out going toward the colder water would get them caught after the first few," Sokka said as he examined the fourth fish, dumping a pile of blood and purple, blue, greenish guts into the stream. He strung the fish across the willow rod, through the mouth and out the gill with the others.

"I wouldn't give them too much credit." Zuko stood as Sokka did and shook out his cramped leg. He turned in the direction the other teen was facing. "Animals are unintelligent."

"That's not true," Sokka said, and they began to walk. "Once we - I mean, my tribe - had this polar bear…" It was better to let the tribesman prattle on. The constant motion of his mouth was a distraction for the both of them. They were only a mile upstream from the waterfall.

They passed through the thick undergrowth, toward a small meadow hidden in the shadow of tall pines and oaks. Zuko had spotted the area as they trekked upstream in the early morning. It was small, solitary, and protected by the large trees. If a firebender patrol were to come within a quarter of a mile, the duo would be able to make a quick escape. Zuko had it planned, right down to the dry branches of the old oaks, which were to be burned in order to reduce smoke. In their situation, small reassurances of safety were comforting. Planning was comforting. Knowing was better.

"…Anyway, the bear ended up pulling his unconscious master five miles, back to the village, where he was treated, and …" Sokka's eyes flashed with curious intent and he asked, "…Everybody lived happily ever after. You weren't even listening to me, were you?"

"Not a word."

"Fine, then."

The situation was fragile - much like they had done the day before. There were mild attacks back and forth. Sokka would accidentally let a branch slip and it would hit or miss Zuko. Zuko would pointedly ignore the peasant, deeming his stories trivial. They were all half hearted at the least, because, in a way, they had killed each other behind the waterfall. The rift that had grown between them was gone and Zuko found himself closer to Sokka. It wasn't comfortable.

Nevertheless, they put on an act. Each playing their former selves, the waterfall completely nonexistent. Zuko knew, though, eventually they would reach it. He wanted very much to avoid it, to continue to be himself before the curtain of liquid dropped. Before he'd learned he was similar to the watertribe boy.

His body ached, but it was all a small price to pay in order to procure the odd form of comfort he took from knowing the other boy couldn't kill him. It was comforting… even _nice_.

The blue-clad teen broke into the clearing before Zuko. "Here. Hold this." The rod of strung fish was handed over to the prince, who stared at them almost questioningly. Sokka indignantly went about dragging pieces of oak to the center of the clearing. It was like firing an arrow and missing, only to find out the victim was an enemy anyway. Sokka knew he was stronger than the prince. His display didn't seem to emphasize the point but Zuko caught on. He was the weaker of the two.

Sokka kicked away the leaves, exposing dark soil, and placed the timber over the barren patch. With a patronizing glance he motioned toward the kindling. "If you please."

Zuko shifted the fish to his left hand and twisted his right, flames sparking in the nearby air and igniting the wood.

"_Thank you_." Sokka grabbed the fish back and began to set each limp body on its own bough. Expertly, he restrung the fish from mouth to tail on thin green branches he'd recently stolen from a nearby willow. He set the four fish over the fire, using two large logs to suspend them between the crackling flames. His blue eyes watched the fish hungrily as they began to hiss, drip, and steam over the fire.

They sat on large fallen branches that were bleached white with age, close enough to touch but neither wanting to. The fire in front of them laughed with its sputtering voice and danced mockingly. Free and vivacious.

Zuko was not interesting in watching the fish cook; instead he found himself observing the watertribe boy. There were things he was beginning to notice, such as the way Sokka's eyes smiled at the corners when he was secretly pleased or proud. The lopsided smile he gave for no apparent reason other than abashment. The way his eyes narrowed and his lips curved to the left when he was planning something. Little things. All that morning… And Zuko suddenly knew: he was getting to close.

There was a pop and a wheezing sound as Sokka turned the fish over with intent eyes. Zuko watched him silently and Sokka caught his stare. There was much too say between them but none of it came spilling out. After the waterfall they'd lapsed into silence and it was unbreakable.

Sokka cleared his throat and said, "They'll be done in a few minutes." His eyes lingered on the prince before dropping into the flames. It was clear what his mind was dwelling on as he watched the fire roll and jive. Zuko continued to watch him, an old feeling curling up in the pit of his stomach. It shouldn't have been there, especially at this time.

"We need a plan," Zuko said before he caught himself.

The other teen looked up and raised his eyebrows. "You think?"

The comment was ignored as the prince reached toward the fire with his right hand, Sokka leaning forward as his wrist was tugged. Zuko pulled a piece of charcoal from the edge of the flames, which moved back on command. The blackened wood was cool to the touch as he drew it out.

He faced the tribesman so that there was a gap between them. The white wood they sat on served as a slate as he drew out a small depiction of the coastline. "I'm assuming we landed somewhere in here…" He pointed to the U-shaped inlet on the drawing. "…Which means we're not far from a large earthbender city."

Sokka seemed to smile at the news, but Zuko cut his elation off quickly. "Unfortunately, they're not very acceptant of firebenders. What we need to find is an open port - that way I can contact my uncle and crew." He drew an X where the earthbender city was and a circle where a port would be located. "We are somewhere in here." He gestured to the empty white wood.

"I guess we just head for the port," Sokka said with a shrug. "But won't Zhao suspect that?"

"Yes." Zuko studied the crude black lines and frowned. "But it's our only choice."

"So, essentially we're probably walking right into a trap?"

"Yes."

"Well." Sokka didn't look comfortable with the idea but he didn't seem to have a better plan, either. "Makes just as much sense as anything else in my life."

Zuko raise his eyebrow. "What do you mean by that?"

Sokka paused hesitantly but continued, "It's not like Aang - I mean the Avatar - really plans where to go. Every day we're somewhere else and doing something different. I mean, there's no logic to where we go except our destina…" Sokka stopped himself and Zuko almost cursed; the boy was so close to letting it slip. "It's not like he's a master at aerial navigation or anything. At least here I know there's a plan."

It probably was a compliment, but Zuko couldn't accept it. "Even if we're walking into a trap?"

"So far your plans haven't completely killed us." Sardonic, really, Zuko thought. Sokka shrugged and turned back to the fish, which had taken on a darker shade. "Besides," Sokka continued. "What's worse than being stranded on enemy territory, hunted by Zhao, handcuffed and hungry?"

The air had a cold tinge and Zuko looked into the sky. "It could rain."

"Which would slow down Zhao's lackeys," Sokka said and picked up one of the poles and examined the fish. He held the fish out to the prince, "Here."

It was an odd but effective gesture at momentary peace and Zuko accepted it, adding, "Rain would also hinder us."

"Yeah," said Sokka as he blew his own steaming fish. "But I'm assuming it would be easier for the two of use to move than an entire troop, especially through the undergrowth… and if they wanted to take the rhinos. Heh."

Zuko looked uncertainly at his fish. Two globular eyes stared back through a layer of white and grease. "I suppose…" He looked back at Sokka only to find the other boy attacking the fish with his mouth. Turning away in disgust, Zuko focused on eating and found himself not hungry. Forcedly he broke the soft skin and drew a strip of white flesh away from the small bones of the rib cage.

Rain was nothing. There were matters of more importance. The poison had not yet taken full effect and he wasn't sure whether they could reach the port before it had consumed the tribesman. He was more immune to the strain - assuming the heating of his blood would slow the toxin. It worked on most poisons, but Zhao was devious. The only way to truly tell what they were infected with was to wait and see.

Again he looked at the watertribe teen, and this time thought it was regrettable he wouldn't survive. Just another casualty… the creature in his stomach stirred again once he finished the first fish. As he tossed the bones into the fire he remembered the name of the beast.

It was guilt.

**--- **

Sokka wanted to keep talking but the prince had put up another barrier. Silence was unnerving because his mind drifted from the prince to the waterfall and back to his mother. It was a never-ending cycle; shift back and forth, back and forth. He knew the situation was delicate. He was attempting to be sociable with the prince, but responses were usually limed to "yes", "no", or a noncommittal sound.

They'd fallen into silence as they left the clearing. Zuko wiped the map off the tree and burned any indication of their lunch. Leaves were kicked over the extinguished fire and the clearing was left as it had been.

An hour or so passed and Sokka's comments fell on deaf ears as they followed Zuko's directions northwest, adjacent from a small stream. Sokka watched the water as it reflected the clear, bright sky. The breeze against the back of his neck was cool but it _wasn't_ going to rain.

The hardest part, Sokka found as his mind wondered, was classifying their relationship. They weren't friends, he doubted they ever would be, but they weren't enemies either. It was unspoken between them: neither was willing to kill the other. They were dependant on one and other. Sokka was used to the situation. He often depended on Aang, Katara, his father, anyone and everyone who he could help in return.

Quid pro quo.

This was different though. It was complicated. Zuko, no doubt, remembered what he had been saying since the start of their journey. Sokka was his prisoner. As long as they were in the woods there was that dependence between them - dependence like the morning before when they caught the fish. Sokka didn't know what to expect once Zuko was aboard his ship. Would he be thrown back into a cell? The more daunting question continued to be, could they make it to the port?

Still, he wanted to enjoy what time he had left. Katara was the kind of person who could find beauty and enjoyment anywhere in her environment. Aang saw games and fun. Sokka saw trees and bushes and the occasional bird, there were also spears and vines and rushes for traps. He saw what was there and the possibilities. What his companion saw was questionable. Sokka tried to assume but pushed the thoughts aside, assuming never worked around the firebender.

"I've been wondering," he asked as they continued to push through the shrubbery. "Back at the beach, I remember waking up behind that log. The funny thing is, I don't really remember falling asleep there. Did you move us?"

He glanced at the prince. "Possibly," the golden-eyed teen said after a moment of thought. "Probably. I don't remember that night to well either. Why?"

"Just wondering," Sokka sighed and pushed through the branches ahead of him. He held them back; making sure the prince behind him wasn't swatted. It seemed to be part of their "treaty". Zuko kept his remarks to a minimal and Sokka stayed somewhat quiet, honoring the "treaty" with respect. It scared him, though, the path they were heading up - it lead to another waterfall. Something had to be done. They had to change something. Eventually, again, they would break down and grapple at each other's throats.

Neither could take another waterfall scene.

Sokka stopped as their detour spread out in front of them, deep, blue, like a reflecting mirror. He felt a smile spread across his face, his eyes narrowed. Behind him the prince had also stopped and looked out at the lake.

"What are we stopping for?" Zuko demanded as he looked over Sokka's shoulder.

Sokka didn't answer but walked out onto the shore. There were variously spaced boulders adorning the shore and water's edge and from them grew dark green moss, matching the forest that surrounded the haven at all sides. It was sandy and inviting; above them the afternoon sun shined and smiled. It was too perfect. Carefully he undid his wrist guards, tossing the white cloth onto the ground.

"What are you doing?" Zuko asked with a cold, questioning expression on his face. As Sokka turned to face him, the prince's expression became suspicious.

"You want to know something?" Sokka asked as he undid the tie around his waist. Zuko raised an eyebrow, his eyes drifting from Sokka's waist to his face and back. Sokka leaned toward the prince and said as plainly as he could, "We stink. I don't' know about you but I'm going to bathe."

"_What_?" then, "What about the plan? Zhao's men you, imbecile!"

Sokka shrugged and slipped his right arm out of the jerkin, suddenly realizing that Zuko was connected to his left arm and he couldn't completely remove himself from the clothing. He mentally cursed the inconvenience. Grumbling in his head, he raised his eyes to meet the prince's. Gold disks traced across his chest and torso. Sokka was surprised to catch the prince staring, but suddenly realized there were dark patches of blues and purples at his sides and near his ribs.

"I can hardly feel them," Sokka mumbled and Zuko's eyes met his.

"You're serious about this." Zuko's voice wasn't compliant, but Sokka knew if he was going to get wet then the prince would join him. It was time to test the boundaries of their "treaty". Besides, the gritty feeling covering his body was beginning to become annoying. Hygiene wasn't a first on his list of things to worry about but dried seawater, sand, dust, and foliage weren't comfortable to walk around in.

His wrist was wrenched upward as the prince pulled his shirt off, letting it slide down his right arm - unable to completely remove it due to the manacles. Sokka blinked and caught sight of the other boy. His ribs were bruised darkly and other various welts and bruises adorned his pale skin. Sokka caught sight of the four welts running down his stomach and looked away.

He found himself feeling gawky next to the prince's polished figure and kicked off his boots indignantly… the firebender did the same, throwing them together against the large boulder in the sand.

Sokka reached for the drawstring of his pants and suddenly realized how far this was going to go. He undid the knot with one hand and felt the breeze run through his legs and his pants slipped past his hips, shivering in the shorts serving as undergarments. He tossed the pants against his boots and turned his attention to the firebender.

A second pair of pants landed on Zuko's boots and Sokka looked at the other boy tentatively. The prince was unreadable, aloof, but his eyes were determined. He had chosen to follow through - an honorable, admirable choice.

It was a ritual. Like spending a week out in the ice with clothes and a knife made a boy a man, stripping down and standing in the cool air, exposed and vulnerable, made caution into trust. Sokka at first had been fearful of the prince, then hateful, vengeful, and - after the waterfall - afraid to break him. Hope was beginning to wake in Sokka's stomach.

The understanding was mutual. Sokka had told his story under the waterfall. This time, Zuko was revealing his tale through his body. The four welts faded as they reached below Zuko's navel. There were other markings, too. Sokka spotted them at once, just under the black undergarment, running along the inner side of both thighs: bruises, dark and purple.

Zuko fit the part; Sokka concluded at once, his body emanated prestige and power. Even as he turned to face Sokka muscles rippled and skin tightened.

"Are you going stand there staring all day or are we going in the water?" The reply wasn't as offended as it was nervous. Sokka caught hints of uncertainty in the prince's eyes, suddenly realizing exactly how much the prince wanted to avoid something like the waterfall. He was willing to go along with Sokka's request in order to keep the peace.

"Right. Sorry." Sokka turned toward the lake, aware of the prince next to him. There was an awkward clump of clothing at their connected wrists and Sokka found himself wishing he could take off the cuffs.

The water lapped at their toes and Sokka was surprised at the lukewarm feel, the ocean was much more frigid. No one stopped or spoke until the water was waist level. Sokka felt like diving and surfacing with a tremendous force, just to wash everything from him instantly, but the constant tug at his wrist prevented him from carrying out his wishes. When the water was nearly chest level Sokka stopped and dunked himself. He came back up and shook out his hair, pulling the tie out.

Zuko was doing the same, although less enthusiastically. Sokka saw him surface, his dark hair clinging to his face and scar. Methodically he rubbed behind his ears and splashed water onto his shoulders and neck.

They cleaned in silence, any verbal commentary didn't seem to fit the situation; yet Sokka found himself questioning the future, finally asking, "What happens after this?"

"What do you mean?"

Sokka caught the prince's gaze and held it. "I mean, what happens when you get back to your ship? What about me?"

There was an uncomfortable pause as the prince looked over Sokka's shoulder and thought. His eyes flicked back to meet the watertribe teen's, "I don't know."

**--- **

He was standing in the snow once again. Small. A child, again - holding a warm hand in his. The drifts were high for the time of year, but, he asked himself; what time of year was it?

Reality came crashing into him as he stared at the fire aflame. It was a slow process. Step by step the figure dragged itself toward him and Sokka couldn't look away. It was enchanting. Like a pyromaniac found fire mystifying, Sokka found the figure's slow dragging dance inescapable. As it drew closer it grew warmer and hotter. Hands waved in the air, hanging at the sides and broken legs grew closer and closer.

The hand in his gave a quick squeeze and he found himself backing away. The figure slumped to the ground, falling face first into the snow. A low wail escaped any lips it might have had. Even in the wind he could tell it was calling his name. "Sokka" over and over again in a betrayed voice. It wanted him.

"She's already dead," said the owner of the hand and Sokka faced Prince Zuko, clad in his usual armor. He was towered over Sokka's young form and held his hand tightly. Sokka struggled to free his hand from the prince's but it was futile. The prince was gripping his wrist slightly. "She's dead!" the prince said with an irate expression. "Do you _want_ to join her?"

"She's my mother!" Sokka wrenched free of the prince's grip and ran toward the burning woman. The snow became harder to run through, the wind blew against him, and as he drew closer to his mother the farther she became. Finally, he fell, tripping face first into the ground.

He rolled onto his side and stared at his feet where the carcass of the snow leopard lay. He caught the deep amber gaze and stared. Eyes blinked back and he scrambled away as the animal rose to its feet, entrails trailing behind it. Pieces of organs and insides dropped from the open stomach and blood ran freely, unfreezing on the snow. Sokka froze in horror as the leopard lunged at him; its large mouth fitting across his throat. He struggled on the icy ground, coughing and chocking until the leopard drew away. And looked down on him, mouth full of blood and sinew.

Sokka shook violently and awoke. The pounding in his ears alerted him to the downpour. Rain was splashing around them, falling through the leaves above them. He had been asleep under a large pine. Sokka shivered involuntarily in the cold and looked around recalling how he came to rest under the tree.

Zuko had been right. It rained. Hard.

The prince was in front of him, eyes closed. Sokka lay back down and faced the prince. He sighed and shivered at once and something warm covered his shoulders. He stopped and realized the prince had wrapped his left arms around his shoulders, drawing him into his chest. Sokka wasn't sure if it was the gesture that startled him the most or who the gesture came from. There was a silent truce between them that had sprung from the lake, something stronger than the connection in the waterfall. Zuko had surrendered his prisoner.

Around them the rain beat down mercilessly and the wind was cold, but Sokka was close enough to feel the heat radiating from the firebender. He drew closer to the other teen and rested his forehead against the prince's chest, whispering, "Thanks."

As he drifted back to sleep, Sokka thought he heard Zuko whisper, "Don't get used to it." If he did hear correctly, through the wind and heavy rain, there was no malice in the prince's tired voice.

**To Be Continued In…**

**Chapter Eight:**_** Smoke Lifting From The Ground**_

The journey continues precariously. Loyalties, morality, and trust are put into play when they earthbenders finally appear.


	8. Smoke Lifting From The Ground

**Chapter Eight: Smoke Lifting From the Ground**

The boy, not so unlike the prince, pulled in closer, resting his head lightly on Zuko's chest, taking comfort in the warmth.

"Thanks."

It was undeniable that he was concerned for the other teen's health. Having the tribesman fall ill during their journey would end them both, but there was a different feeling mixed in with the rationalization. But he didn't _want_ Sokka ill. It wasn't the same "wanting" as he experienced in his quest to capture the Avatar; that was a type of desire. It was much closer, the same wanting and, perhaps caring, that he felt for his uncle when the elder was captured by earthbenders.

It was like the kiss. Necessary, he told himself as he had slid his arm around the shivering boy's shoulders, controlling his bending so heat enveloped them both. Yet he was still unsure how to reply, or to reply at all. Wearily, he ground out, "Don't get used to it."

The watertribesman made a noncommittal sound and devolved into soft snores, leaving the prince wide-awake.

Zuko had decided long ago he did not like sleeping people. It was even more unnerving when they dreamt out loud; partially because he believed he, _also_, might reveal some secret or feeling when he drifted off. Sokka, in particular, mumbled. Not only when he was having an obvious nightmare, but also when he was dreaming regularly. Food seemed to be a regular subject, and in the state of things, Zuko found himself unable to berate the teen for it. He, too, was beginning to feel his insides churn with hunger.

Zuko had decided long ago he didn't like to dream. Dreams weren't real; they were fantasies, which he had no time for. If he had any such dreams, they were rare. Many times it replayed in his head. It had been especially bad when he lay in the infirmary, left eye bandaged.

When his remaining eye closed, all that he saw continued to be a hand closing in. Over and over again. A single hand. And he was reminded; that was all it took to break him, he was no longer his father's son, he was now banished. It hadn't been until his Uncle Iroh found him asleep in a state of distress, weeks after, that he received help. Iroh taught him to clear his mind. Meditate. And every night, before bed, he did so. And every morning he awoke, feeling as if he'd recently closed his eyes. The feeling itself was cheated, as if he was missing something from the night before. But, it was better than waking in cold sweat.

Zuko blinked the wave of weariness back. This night, while lying under the pine tree, he hadn't cleared his mind. He couldn't, and thus, he refused to let himself sleep. So, he lay on his side and closed his eyes, keeping his mind alert.

Sokka muttered something about his mother and Zuko pulled him in closer, trying to concentrate on the sound of the other boy's breathing.

It was easy to admit that the tribesman had been the closest the prince had ever gotten to someone his age. This made it particularly difficult for the both of them. Interaction was stressed and often they found themselves walking in an awkward silence, the blue-clad teen throwing thoughts and comments about randomly.

Of course, the Idiot had to come up with someway to break the routine. This distraction came in the form of a bath, if it could be called a "bath".

Zuko had been hesitant to agree. The gritting dirt and sand in his clothes and tangles in his hair were persuasive, but he was uncomfortable with stripping down in front of the other boy. It wasn't his body. He had, many times, been dressed and undressed by servants both men and women. It was what was _on_ his body that sent a wave of uncertainty through him.

He complied in the end. It was only fair; Sokka had gone through his ordeal at the waterfall. Zuko supposed it was his turn.

Standing in a state of undress in front of a would-be enemy. Zuko snorted at the scene in retrospection; he would have never imagined it happening to him. Ever. The feeling of exposure was overwhelming; each boy could see each other in true form, no armor, no parka. Of course, the Idiot had to stare and build the feeling.

Zuko had found himself staring back, taking in the other boy's body. Bruised ribs, smooth stomach… They were built faintly similar but years of training had sculpted Zuko, whereas Sokka was beginning to grow into his post pubescent body. It surprised him that they were nearly the same height. He wasn't sure who was taller, but had always felt he was. Zuko was beginning to doubt it.

Zuko opened his eyes suddenly and shook the sleep from his head. Taking a deep breath he turned his thoughts back to the lake and Sokka's eyes, staring at him with an unreadable look. The look was intense, and it frightened the prince. It wasn't so much the look that he found unnerving; it was what he wanted from the look.

Acceptance.

It was what he always wanted. Acceptance from his father. Acceptance, in the form of understanding, from his uncle and crew. Now, acceptance from a weaker being - a _tribesman_ nonetheless.

And, to his own surprise, Zuko found himself defending the tribesman, rationalizing that he had been the one who'd help avoid the firebenders, more than once. He had shown courage and, even, honor during the escape. But most of all, he was a human - like the prince - and he was another victim…

It was hard to challenge previous ideals unless thrown face-to-face with them and forced to make a decision. Like he had told Sokka in the lake, he was unsure of what to do after he got his ship. Would they make it to the port unharmed? What of the poison? How many of his men were alive - if any at all?

Zuko closed his eyes tight and concentrated on serenity. A small fire, like the lit wick of a candle, burned in his mind. He watched it flicker, flare, die, and grow hoping to find answers in the element that was once everything to him…

The sound of birds woke him. Feeling resigned, Zuko opened his eyes and stared into the golden-tinted forest just above Sokka's head. He blinked a few times as the foliage of the pines came into view, bathed yellow in the morning light. Morning, Zuko's mind repeated groggily. _Another_ morning. It took him several moments to realize that he was pressed up against Sokka. Quickly, he let go of the other teen, shifting himself into a sitting position.

Above them a bird lifted off a branch, showering both boys with dew and collected rain. Zuko glared into the trees and, next to him, Sokka lifted himself up forcefully.

"Time already?" Sokka asked blearily, rubbing his eyes. "Do we have to move?"

"Might as well," Zuko said without hiding the sigh in his voice. He leaned over to his left, intending to push off with that arm, but a stabbing pain stopped him. He sat back down and winced, pulling his bandaged arm into his lap.

"You okay?" Sokka asked and stayed seated on his knees. Zuko gave his comment an aggravated look, to which Sokka replied, "Right, sorry. Stupid question."

"I think I need to check it," Zuko said and attempted to undo the gauze.

The process proved to be tedious as his right wrist pulled Sokka's wrist along. Finally, after the first few binds, Sokka sighed and reached for the bandaging. "Let me do it."

Zuko dropped his hands warily at the insistent look in the other teen's eyes. He knew the tribesman wouldn't dare hurt him - he was nearly sure the tribesman was _afraid_ of hurting him in any way. This, Zuko knew was a terrible weakness and his devious side urged him to use the newfound trust against the other boy.

Having his right hand freed, Sokka worked quickly, able to unravel the material around the prince's arm and wrist. Setting the gauze and splints aside he examined the arm, making a dismayed face at he green-hued bruise where the break was assumed to be. Tentatively he looked at Zuko, as if asking for permission to check the break.

The prince nodded.

Round-ended fingers ran across pale skin. Zuko ignored the familiar touch, only shivering when Sokka stopped and applied light pressure to the discolored area. Immediately responding to Zuko's reaction, Sokka drew his hand away, muttering, "Sorry."

"I'm not an expert at this," Sokka said quickly. "But I don't think the bones are misaligned. Do you want me to tie it back up?"

"Sure."

Zuko stayed uncomfortably still as Sokka laid the splints, one on the top of his arm and another at the bottom, and began to wrap the gauze in spirals around them. He did not like accepting help from the tribesman. His debt to the boy was beginning to grow and he wasn't sure how to repay it - or whether to repay it at all.

It was much more complicated than right and wrong. There was more than one answer and opinions to match.

Zuko cursed life for being so complicated.

They followed no particular trail, but Zuko was worried about their footprints in the drying mud. Sokka hoped it would rain again that night. Large billowing clouds were gathering from the east. Sokka watched them constantly out of the corner of his eye. Reaching toward a high moon peach branch, he could see just how big the storm coming might be.

"Here." He tossed a moon peach to the prince, who caught it with his left hand and winced.

Sokka wondered how much the prince really hurt. Judging from the bruises, the other teen wasn't letting on how bad his injuries were. It was impressive, Sokka admitted, that Zuko had not ever asked for a break or showed great pain during their hikes. Sokka also figured it was alright to be impressed by the prince; he was accomplished for is age.

A thin smile spread over his lips. If Katara could see him now… Sharing breakfast with a firebender. Biting into the peach, he pondered on his friends, wondering just where the hell they were. North Pole probably. Where they should be.

He looked over at his silent companion and their eyes locked. Raising a discrete eyebrow, Zuko asked, "What?"

"Nothing. Just thinking about my sister," Sokka said, turning back to the path, making sure to walk along the roots and not in the mud. "She would never believe this… I mean, you and me. _Not_ killing each other."

"Oh." It was a common response to one of Sokka's many comments. The tribesman interpreted it as "whatever"; it usually was thrown at him when his comment or opinion wasn't wanted.

"I have a sister, too," Zuko said after throwing the peach seed into the undergrowth.

"Really?" Sokka wasn't sure where the conversation was going. The prince seldom voluntarily revealed anything about his family life. "Younger or older?"

"Younger, about your age, actually," Zuko said and steadied himself on a root. His eyes were fixed on the path. "Her name Azula."

"Sounds pretty," Sokka said and Zuko gave a dry laugh in response. Sokka, surprised, nearly tripped. "What? Is she horrendously ugly or something?"

"Quite the contrary," Zuko said. "She's considered beautiful, but it's skin deep."

"Oh. A real bitch, huh?"

"That's one way to put it."

Sokka smiled. It was weird speaking openly to the prince like this. It was almost _normal_, like he was talking to another villager or even a quieter, more secretive version of Aang. Still, hoping the prince would continue, he asked, "What's she done anyway?"

This time Zuko met his eyes and held the gaze. "To put it lightly, she's sadistic. Powerful. Evil. And always lies. She… she hates me." The last words were a bit slurred as Zuko missed a step and slipped. Half a footprint landed in mud between the roots and Zuko smeared it with the toe of his boot.

"Shit. That's pretty messed up." Sokka wasn't sure what to say. His family, although divided by geographical barriers and mortality, had always been loving and supportive. He could hardly imagine hating Katara or her hating him. "Why does she…? I mean, if it's okay for me to ask."

"It's fine," Zuko said and continued with his eyes on the path. It seemed to be easier to talk that way. "Without my banishment, she would never become what she's always wanted to be - Queen of the Fire Nation." Sokka noticed the prince's head drop a fraction as he continued. "She hates me for being older, being the heir, being weaker than her and hating her back… it's a fucking mess. But now that I'm banished, she can take the throne after our father relinquishes it - whether it be resignation or death.

"When we were young, she'd always tell me I would be ignored in compariosn to her - the rightful heir." The dry laugh came again and Sokka stayed quiet. "In the end I guess the problem solved itself: I was banished after all. I'm the forgotten one, now."

The silence gnawed away at Sokka and he found himself staring at the ground also. "So that's why you've been chasing us? To save your throne."

"The task was assigned to me after banishment," Zuko said. "If I successfully capture the Avatar, then I regain my honor, throne, and nation. So, yes, to save my throne… even if it is _selfish_."

"It's not," Sokka said abruptly. "Not when you look at it from your point of view. It's just that, well, the Avatar is supposed to help the entire world, not just one nation."

"Helping the Fire Nation would help the world… Eventually, my father will harness the power of Sozen's comet. Not even the Avatar could stop him." Zuko's monotonous voice turned suddenly bitter. "If I am able to regain the throne, I could rule _after_ my father, _rebuild_ what he destroys. It's all I can hope for if the Avatar does not defeat him."

"So you'll spend your life cleaning up your father's mess?" Sokka asked incredulously. "What's selfish is assuming that the fate of your nation, or the world, is only on _your_ shoulders. What happens if your father decides he likes your sister better? It'll all be in vain and you'd probably be dead."

Zuko's eyes had taken on a tempered look when they met Sokka's. "What about the Avatar? He's had a hundred years and all he can do is airbend! By next summer's end, my father will be all-powerful. If the Avatar does fight him, it will be ridiculous! Like fighting a fly."

"Aang's already getting the hang of water," Sokka said defensively. "He'll definitely master earth and fire by the end of the summer."

"And I suppose you'll be the one to teach him?"

"No," Sokka said and hopped onto a far-reaching root. "We're going to the North Pole to find him a teach… Oh shit!" Sokka slipped forward, but a quick tug at the wrist pulled his back. He landed gracelessly, his behind painfully resting on an old tree trunk.

"Ouch." He dusted himself off and the prince pulled him up by the wrist.

"Good luck finding someone to teach him firebending," the prince said with a thin smirk. "Not many of my people will be willing to disobey Lord Ozai."

"Just like you, eh?" Sokka said daringly. "You don't dare disobey your father, either, do you?"

"I did once," Zuko said darkly, glaring at Sokka. "Look where it got me! Trudging through earthbender forests with some water monkey."

Sokka felt a streak of hot anger shoot through him. "Oh, yeah? What did you do anyway? Tell him the uniforms were tacky?"

"No," Zuko said in a forced voice. He moved more quickly, and Sokka was pulled forward. "I disagreed with a general's decision at my first war council. Since the general's orders were taken directly from my father, I was challenging his will. It was terribly disrespectful."

"Really," Sokka said in an unconvinced voice. "What was the order?"

"Do you remember Heika, from Zhao's ship?"

"Yeah."

"Do you remember what he said when he first met me?"

"Yeah. Two hundred something… pretty kiss ass, if you ask me."

"Well, I'm not asking for your opinion," Zuko said in the same restrained voice. "The general was ordered to send a battalion of two hundred new recruits straight into brutal earthbenders lines as a distraction. 'Fresh meat', he called them. It was suicide. I objected."

"But it happened anyway?" Sokka said in a quieter voice and dropped his head a bit. "Didn't it."

"Yes. And I was banished. I guess my efforts were for nothing." Zuko's voice had taken on the bitter chip.

"Not necessarily." Sokka shrugged. "You've got supporters; they helped us escape. Without them we would be back in that cell."

"Without me, we would never have been in that cell," Zuko said darkly. His eyes following the gnarled roots into the dimmer part of the forest.

Sokka considered the thought for a moment and found himself agreeing. "Hm. That is true. _But_, now that you're not with the Fire Nation you could do some real good." Sokka quickly wracked his brain as Zuko gave him a skeptical look. "Like, uh… teach Aang to firebend! You've got it mastered pretty much, don't you?"

"That's laughable," Zuko said coldly and turned away. "Even if I don't legally hold allegiance with the Fire Nation, that doesn't mean I'm ready to jump ship. I'm still loyal."

"To your father or your people?" Sokka asked, a plan forming in his mind.

"Both," Zuko said with narrowed eyes. "Is there a difference?"

"The people make a nation, the leader runs it, who's more important?" There was a twinge of hope that maybe; perhaps, in some crazy way Zuko would agree. Maybe, he didn't have to go back to being the prince's enemy.

"Both."

Sokka sighed exasperatedly and covered his face, "Could your nation function without your people? No? Could it function without your father? Yes. So, you tell me: who's more important?"

"What's your point?"

"Who are you more loyal to? Your people, right?" Zuko nodded. "Then why not do them a favor and help out Aang? It would stop the war and get your throne back. _Think about it_."

"I have," Zuko said slowly. "But if I leave my people now, they won't accept me back, even if I force my way onto the thrown. Honor. Allegiance. _Dignity_. I would never be respected. It's no way to rule."

"But you would be respected by some," Sokka said. "People like Heika and the other nations. Even the Earth Kingdom."

Zuko suddenly stopped walking and tilted his head toward Sokka. His lips curled in what could have been a wistful half-smiled and Sokka nearly stopped in his tracks. He'd never seen that expression; topaz eyes were half-lidded and lips pulled back at the left side slightly. There was a sad hoping in the eyes and a forced smirk in his lips, as if to say: I really, really wish, _but_…

"You make it sound so easy," Zuko said softly. "As if all I have to do is join you, help the Avatar, help defeat my father, and be unconditionally welcomed back into my nation."

Sokka held the gaze. "Would you? If it were all that easy?"

Sokka watched the prince hesitate. His lips formed a half oval answer before he turned his head away and sighed. Looking up with the same wistful eyes he opened his mouth, but stopped, his eyes becoming wide with shock. The only word that escaped him was, "Sokka…!" before everything went dark.

If there had been enough time, Sokka wondered sometime later, in a dream he wouldn't remember, would he have said yes?

Sokka was sure he would have. He knew he would have.

**--- **

Zuko was beginning to tire of waking to groggy aches and blurry, unfamiliar surroundings. He was sitting on the ground, hands bond behind him, onto a pole or tree of some kind. His left hand was laid over his right, preventing any bending. The prince shook his head and, like all the times before, the environment became painfully clear. This time, though, it consisted of two large green tents in the middle of a meadow bearing the Earth Kingdom insignia. There were chattering voices and someone shouted. Still unsteady, Zuko looked to his right, expecting Sokka to be lying unconscious next to him; but it wasn't so.

"Sokka?" the name slipped out before he could stop and he looked around for the other teen.

"Right here." The reply came from somewhere behind him and Zuko craned his neck against the pole to catch a glimpse of blue cloth.

Sokka was bound to a second pole, yards away from the prince. Zuko was able to catch a fleeting image of his back and shoulders before the muscles in his neck ached and he turned back to face the green tents.

"Where are the guards?" Zuko asked. The situation was all too familiar.

"They ran off to the shout," Sokka said and the sound of his struggling against the bonds was apparent. He sighed, defeated, and asked, "What's going to happen to us?"

"You'll most likely be tried as a Fire Nation spy," Zuko said and watched the tents ruffle in the wind. "If you're not sentenced to death, you should be able to choose between a life-long sentence of hard labor or joining the infantry without the ability to rise in rank." Then, as an after thought, he added, "If you want to live choose hard labor. In battle the Earth Nation infantry has the highest mortality rate."

There was a pause. "And you?"

"I'll be taken to Bai Sing Sei and sentenced to death." It wasn't as if he could hide the infamous scar and, although he had never participated in any famous battles, he was once the heir to the Fire Nation throne and still carried royal blood. Besides, the Bai Sing Sei bastards would probably find it amusing to send the Fire Lord his son's heart, Zuko scoffed.

"We're going to escape, right?" Sokka voice was quiet, but there was a deep yearning in it. He cared for both their safety.

"I don't know." Zuko tested his bonds. "I don't think I can get out."

"You can get me out," Sokka said. "I've been thinking about it for a while - if you could just set fire to the ropes on my wrists I could be able to break them."

"That's insane," Zuko hissed back, his eyes narrowed. "Judging by the thickness of these ropes it would take to long to burn. You'd be in excruciating pain."

"I could handle it," Sokka said frowning on Zuko's skepticism. "Besides, why should you care about _my_ health?"

It was a fair question, Zuko thought. He didn't want to injure the other boy; it wasn't logical considering they still had to reach the port. And, like the stormy night, he felt the same caring for the darker teen.

"You're still my prisoner," Zuko said quickly, too quickly. "Besides, your screams would alert the guards before you could untie me. There will be other opportunities, just be ready."

Sokka made a sound that could have been a cough and Zuko, glancing painfully back at him, saw the other boy nod. Zuko also saw, past Sokka's shoulders, a group of Earth Kingdom soldiers moving toward them. They were led by an older man with a gray streaked beard. This man, Zuko assumed, was the captain or lieutenant in charge of the patrol. As he watched, three of the soldiers broke away, carrying another. They hurried to the farthest tent and disappeared.

"Well, well, well…" the older man was circling Sokka and staring at him with contempt. "A Water Tribe boy…" His footfalls grew louder and he approached Zuko from the right. Leaning over in a snide fashion, he smiled, "And the Fire Nation's banished Prince."

Zuko silently glowered, asking calmly, "We're quite aware of who we are. Why don't _you_ introduce yourself?"

"Just as uncouth as the rumors say," the man said and leaned back, looking down on the prince. "Very well then, I am captain Yan Shi, Earth Kingdom guard, stationed at Bei Bian City."

"You know I am no longer of the Fire Nation. Arrest of an impartial citizen is illegal." Zuko knew it was a long shot. There wasn't much of a chance the other man would believe him - the former Fire Prince - wasn't in some way loyal to the Fire Nation. It was a chance, even if it was a lie.

Yan Shi laughed and threw his head back, hands finding his sides. "_You_? The _prince_?" He asked with a wider smirk. "And a citizen of what, may I ask? That little ship you sail around on? Ha!"

Zuko gritted his teeth, the man's laugh irking him. His right hand was beginning to spark, stinging his left. Quickly, he exhaled through his teeth, dark smoke escaping from the corner of his mouth. The captain found this amusing and widened his smirk further, placing a hand to his chin.

"Oh dear, I seem to have struck a nerve," Yan Shi mocked.

"Can you just shut up and get to the point?" Zuko asked, gritting his teeth.

"'The point?' The point would have to be: What are you doing in this forest?" Then, as an after thought he added, "Not that it will matter much. My commander will be just as glad to receive you, reasons aside. There was a particularly bad raid last year in Bei Bian and his son was killed. There hasn't been much retribution, but the Fire Lord's son should do _fine_."

Sokka suddenly snorted and laughed causing both Zuko and the captain to look over at him with surprise. Zuko felt the ground beneath his feet shake as the captain huffed and clenched his fists. Raising his hands, palms upward, the captain caused the poles to rise, pulling both boys to their feet. Then, with a look of deep derision, Yan Shi stomped on the ground once, spinning the pole Sokka was attached to around and pulling him up, next to Zuko.

"And, _you_," Yan Shi said. "Is there something you find amusing, boy?"

"Yeah," Sokka said, glaring at he older man. "You think you're so righteous, being from the Earth Kingdom and all, but you're no better than the Fire Nation!"

Zuko was surprised by the outburst, but it was true. In war, men were made into beasts, no matter which side they were on. The captain didn't seem to be pleased by the accusation. His brows furrowed and fists clenched and unclenched.

"You're far from home, tribesman," Yan Shi said in a forcedly calm voice. "Care to explain what adventures you and the prince were seeking in the woods?"

Zuko watched Sokka's face contort at the innuendo, and then, oddly, flush. Sokka glared back the best he could, but Zuko decided the tribesman had said his part and cut his oncoming defense off, "We were captured by the Commander Zhao in a raid approximately five days ago. Needless to say, we escaped."

"Fire Nation fugitives, I see." The captain pulled at his beard and looked upward. "That raid… yes, I heard about it. Disgraceful really." His eyes drifted back toward Zuko's and gazes locked. "What I can't understand is why you would run - "

"Sir!" a young ensign, judging from the used uniform, came running up to Yan Shi. Immediately he stopped and saluted the captain.

"Yes, yes," Yan Shi spat, irritated that his banter had been interrupted. "What is it?"

"The private bitten by the viper, sir, he's dying. He wishes to speak to you."

Zuko had not taken time to look closely at the soldiers who were standing near the opening to the farthest tent. They were young, new recruits form the city, probably. He doubted any of them besides the captain had much experience in the wooded terrain. The prince realized then, what had caused the scream he had awoken to.

Yan Shi's snort of distaste interrupted Zuko's thoughts. The captain shook his head and sighed. "Yes. Yes, I'll see the silly boy," he said resignedly.

"It must be terribly humiliating," Zuko said as the captain and recruit turned away. "Spending your days training _fresh meat_." The last words were borrowed, but it was indeed what the recruits were. Especially if they were to run into Zhao's men.

The captain turned around and eyed Zuko warily. The prince was aware of all the eyes on him. The ensign was nervous, his eyes drifting to Zuko's scar and then away continually, his fingers tapping a jade-encrusted dagger at his belt in an unsteady rhythm. Sokka was apprehensive, as if holding his breath.

"What do you want now?" The captain asked suspiciously.

Pressing his lips together, the prince said simply, "I need to take a leek."

Sokka's face fell.

The captain slapped his face and sighed into his palm. With a wave of his hand, the pole securing Zuko was pulled into the ground, leaving the prince swaying. To the ensign he said, "You take care of this."

"Yes, sir!" The younger man didn't seem to happy with his new task, but proceeded to grab the prince by the shoulder and pull him toward the edge of the clearing.

It was the opportunity he had been waiting for. Zuko stopped and felt the ensign bump into him, accidentally. His free fingers caught the handle of the dagger as his knee rose followed by his leg, which shot out behind him in a perfect back kick to the soldier's stomach. The ensign crumbled and the dagger was twisted upward to cut at the knots.

There was shout of surprise seconds after the ensign hit the ground and Zuko heard the other men from the tent running toward him. He felt the rope slip from his wrists and turned toward his companion. Quickly he turned and sprinted the few yards to Sokka's side where he undid the knot with ease.

Sokka faced him, and in the split second it took for them to lock eyes there was a moment of thanks.

There was no need for words, both boys turned, sprinting toward the trees, where they could avoid the soldiers.

Zuko looked back, catching a brief glimpse of the captain's outraged face and the other faceless soldiers before the ground beneath his feet dropped. A surprised yelp escaped his lips as he felt himself plummeting into the crevasse one of the soldiers had created. As suddenly as it had all come, Sokka caught his upper arm and in a great burst of strength, pulled him up.

The prince scrambled to his feet and kept running, Sokka's hand now on his right wrist, near the hand that held the dagger.

And then it happened. Zuko felt himself collide with the wall of earth and the stones and roots scrap his unmarred cheek. Sokka's hand left his wrist and went to the blue-clad teen's chest, as he coughed and looked at Zuko with worried eyes.

The wall rose around them and, seemingly, into the sky. Around them, two more walls had appeared, closing them in. The earthbenders were closing in and Zuko counted the captain among the four. There was sense of utter panic as the men drew closer, so that he could see their faces and the displeased captain's face.

"There's nowhere to go, firebender," the captain said darkly, and slightly out of breath. But, Zuko knew he was wrong.

He grabbed Sokka at the left shoulder and caught a handful of blue cloth at the tribesman's waist. There was a look of surprise in the large blue eyes as Zuko spun the other boy, fast enough to break his balance, and let him go, sending him flying toward the mocking captain. Sokka's face was wide with confusion as he collided with the captain, sending the man sprawling back, into the other soldiers.

Zuko moved quickly, choosing to ignore his throbbing arm. As the earthbenders shouted in surprise, he reached the end of one wall and turned on the ball of his foot. The sprint continued alone and he reached the forest within seconds. And, despite the insatiable urge to run, his mind repeated over and over: we were so close almost moments ago.

He stumbled, crashing into the undergrowth, the meadow disappearing behind him along with the dying sun's light. The walls crashed down and he didn't listen to the shouts echoing from the sunny meadow. Instead, he concentrated on the sound of his rapid heart and a small candle in the dark. Nothing that reminded him of the fault he'd committed and, most of all, he didn't dare look back.

**To Be Continued In…**

**Chapter Nine: **_**Mirror Stares Back Hard**_

Zuko contemplates re-rescuing. Firebenders complicate the choice. And, yet, all hope is not lost.

[_edited 03.15.2009_]


	9. Mirror Stares Back Hard

**Chapter Nine: Mirror Stares Back Hard**

He didn't stop running until his foot caught in an upturned root.

Zuko plummeted face first into damp leaves and lay still. Squeezing his eyes closed, the prince took deep gasping breaths. His lungs were burning and the throbbing pain throughout his body was beginning to pulsate along with his heartbeat. He rolled onto his back, letting the jade encrusted dagger slip from his fingers. His right hand was stiff from holding onto the hilt, the knuckles agonizingly white. He held the hand up, in front of his face, and watched the color return to the pale knuckles.

Still breathing hard, he clenched the fist, realizing that the bandaging had come undone. Pale flesh was rubbed raw along the wrist, where the shackle had been. He suddenly dropped the hand and sighed, closing his eyes to the freckled sky that could be seen through the treetops.

Sleep swiftly undertook him, his eyes closing. Under those eyelids, he drempt of Sokka's wide blue eyes, just before he flew into the earthbender troops. Over and over again. He dreamt of the shouts following him as he ran from the meadow. He was sure Sokka had been calling back, his voice high and cracking with age. He dreamed and the creature in his stomach ate away, moving up his chest and into his lungs.

He awoke gasping for breath; one hand finding it's way onto his stomach, just to make sure there really wasn't a gaping hole there.

Zuko sighed and lay awake, watching the heavens through the trees. When he decided to move again it was night and the stars were bleakly twinkling from above the treetops. The prince felt uncharacteristically smothered beneath the foliage and sky.

Struggling against the pain that invaded his stomach, both from exertion and hunger, he sat up. The forest creaked and chirped around him. Resting for hours had cost him ground. He had definitely left a trail during his escape; if the earthbenders were tracking him they would have no problem. It was thoughtless, he concluded, it was pure adrenaline he'd run on.

He braced himself with his right arm and pushed off. Standing, he was assaulted by vertigo. Enough so, he clutched at the nearest tree trunk for support as the world turned slowly right side up . He closed his eyes and shook his head, causing the tilting world to come to a stop.

He took a shaky step forward and reached down to retrieve the dagger, setting out into the darkness. He walked in the stillness, the sound of his footsteps echoing off the trees and traveling further into the darkness.

He stopped and the noise he'd created dieing with his halt. There was no point in continuing, he reasoned. Walking had no point. He had little idea where he was. The direction he'd taken off in was unidentified; he could be on the outskirt of Bei Bian, a few miles from the ports, or somewhere else completely. Even time was lost to him.

What he needed was a safe place to finish off the night. The hollow silence would have been filled by Sokka's voice, suggesting that they move into a hollow or under a tree. Alone, the prince had little idea where to go.

He settled for the latter, finding an overhanging willow-like tree by a small brook. Under it the leaves were dry and loud, crackling under foot with the loudest he'd heard that night. After driving the dagger into the tree's trunk, he lay himself down by the tree's base, between large roots, as if they'd serve to protect him from anything detrimental. The sound of the stream was small in comparison to the beating of his heart, which seemed to rival the very leaves he lay under.

He faced a dire decision. There was a burning feeing in his stomach urging him to go back for Sokka; it was the right thing to do. The other teen had helped him, often, and the debt was still unpaid. To leave him to the earthbenders was surly death, they had little idea he was poisoned and even if they did find out, there was little they could do by the second week.

Zuko reminded himself he was also under the drug. Whatever it was it hadn't affected him yet. Sokka wasn't showing any signs. There was a small flash of hope and naivety as he wondered if Zhao really had poisoned them. Perhaps it was a ploy to catch him, just as the "lovers" accusation had…

Zuko turned his head away from the treetop. There was no sky anyway and he felt blanketed by the large tree.

There was no logical reason to go back for the watertribesman. He had the information he wanted; the Avatar was going to the North Pole. The Avatar had _mastered_ airbending and _barely_ started to waterbend. The monk was at his most vulnerable now, both to Zuko and to Zhao. There was no way Zuko would let the commander escape with his prize. He knew, atleast, he had more information on the Avatar. Zhao's attention was also focused on finding the banished prince, a distraction from the Avatar.

So, in all logic, there was no reason to go back for Sokka. What else, if anything, could the other boy provide?

Zuko cursed the pit of his stomach, which was welling with guilt. He cursed the fact that he knew he'd go back for the boy, if only to repay the debts he owed him and keep him as a source of information regarding the Avatar.

Zuko exhaled and rubbed the exposed skin on his arms. It was growing colder. Immediately he sent a surge of heat through himself, his veins passing the warm blood throughout his body.

Firebenders, he's always felt, were to most connected to their element and, thus, the most powerful of all benders. Fire resided _inside_ them, the bending required calling it out and harnessing raw emotion in the flames. Firebending was a deep display of passion; whether it was the passionate hate, which Zuko often found himself dabbling amidst, or a passionate desire to attain something - another form Zuko had greatly experienced in the past month.

He was avoiding the subject at hand and caught himself. His mind was already made up, but he refused to act without rationalizations. Sokka was needed for information. Sokka was a friend of the Avatar's, close enough to be deemed important and to be considered valuable. Sokka knew the forest, and although Zuko wasn't willing to admit it aloud, he needed the other boy as a guide.

Zuko closed his eyes and concentrated on his breath. Although his position wasn't necessarily proper, he felt the fire in his chest subside and flicker. The image of a small flame in his mind forming. He concentrated on it as it grew and shrunk. Repetitive. Patterned actions. So that his emotions fluctuated with the fire and his mind was unusually calm.

Again sleep undertook him. He remembered closing his eyes to the feeling of leaves against his body. He awoke to the same, hunger gnawing at his stomach and the same fleeting feeling dancing in his mind as his dreams evaded him each night.

The world came into focus and he was unhappy to find the sun already high in its usual trip across the sky. It was nearly nine hours into the morning and he had not moved yet.

Frustrated, he stood up. Vertigo seemed to wash away much more quickly this time and he grabbed the dagger he'd driven into the side of the tree. It came without resistance and he examined it in the morning light. It was a beautifully crafted blade, most likely once belonging to an Earth Kingdom Nobel. A jade dragon's head protruded from the top of the handle, gold and green swirling down the grip and ending at the silver blade, which curved slightly inward.

The recruit who'd had it definitely did not know how to wield it. Zuko smirked and wondered if the dagger had been a present to the boy, perhaps from his father. The ensign was probably of noble blood, a youth attracted by the glory and glamour of war. The propaganda spouted on either side of the battlefield was enough to make any soldier sick. The war was reaching its apex as the summer drew nearer and each elemental nation wished to have the greater army.

Zuko turned away from the dagger and glanced at the stream. It was a shallow brook, running opposite from where he stood. Sokka had mentioned before, in one of his offhand comments that most game could be found near small streams in the early hours. Another rumble from his stomach sent the prince toward the stream.

Zuko stepped out of the willow tree, parting the long tendrils with his left hand. The sunlight was bright and assaulted his eyes, causing him to squint and shade his face with his injured hand. His muscles were tight from sleep and the new movement began to pull at them. The pain was comforting, only in the way that Zuko knew he was still alive.

The soft, familiar sound of the stream called to him and he knelt at the bank. Setting the dagger into the soft earth near him, he scooped a handful of cold water with both hands and splashed his face. He shivered instantly when the water connected with the skin. Face dripping, he scooped another handful, this time drinking. He felt it travel through his throat and into his stomach, where the ravaging creature was calmed.

Retrieving the dagger he moved upstream. The day would have been beginning pleasantly for most people, but Zuko cursed the sun's glare and tromped along under the cover of the stream's shady bank. There was little game in sight, if anything bigger had come along he was sure his footfalls had frightened it away before he could even glimpse it.

It was a gamble, Zuko thought, but if he were right the streams in this area would lead up to a large set of lakes. The lakes were just outside of Bei Bian, meaning he could, most likely find the patrol heading back to the city with Sokka. The better part of the plan was that the older captain, Yan Shi, would most likely stay behind with a few recruits and continue their hunt for the exiled prince.

He ignored the chance that he was completely lost and walking deeper into the forest. It was hard to explain, but he felt he was heading in the correct direction.

When the stream reached a bend, the banks became uncomfortably rocky - shade scant. The stream also transitioned into a nearly dead riverbed, the huge boulders forming an incline on either side of the scarce water that flowed downhill in a melodious tune. Walking on the rocks was tiring, hopping and jumping from them was worse. He suddenly thought of turning back and trying to find some other way to track the earthbenders. As if there were another option.

At noon he stopped and took another drink, contemplating his sanity. If it weren't for the information the other boy possessed, be would have headed north to the ports.

Zuko stood up and massaged his right shoulder, the muscle beginning to stitch. Something within the surrounding forest cracked and a small flock of birds took off from the treetops. Zuko instantaneously froze, his first instinct was to reach for the dagger, but on second thought he tilted the dagger on its side with a foot and slid it into the stream. No less than two seconds later, there was a rush of footsteps and firebenders appeared from either side of the riverbank.

Zuko contemplated running in the opposite direction in which's he'd come, but the voice of reason taunted him, saying there was no escape this time. Zuko tensed and took a ready position, the firebenders stayed still on either side, until a man stepped out from amongst them. Their faceless masks and ready hands faced downward, toward him.

"Prince Zuko!" the man called and motioned the other men to stand down. They did, but only enough to look less foreboding and just as dangerous. The man drew a small scroll from his belt and read, "Zuko, son of Ozai, you stand accused of treason against the Fire Nation. You have been witnessed attacking Fire nation troops, preventing them from fulfilling their duty to the Commander Zhao. You have also been witnessed having a prisoner of the Fire nation in your custody and allowing him to escape, seeing as he is no longer with you, and therefore making war against your former nation. How do you plead?"

Zuko glared up at the man. It was like Zhao to accuse him of something like this, something completely inaccurate but held a twisted shred of truth. He had attacked Fire Nation troops, but only as a self-defense. He had escaped with a prisoner, but only because Zhao had locked them together. He had lost the prisoner, but only because of the Earth Kingdom troops. He was not warring against his nation.

"I am not guilty," Zuko shouted back, his right hand sparking and smoldering in a fist. "The accusations set against me are falsified."

"Do you surrender and place yourself in our custody?"

The question burned him. He would have to give up his search for Sokka at the moment. Resisting arrest would further prove his disloyalty, but… Zuko scoffed and considered attacking the right bank in hopes of a quick escape into the woods. It was unlikely; these were Zhao's top men. They would arrest him, not matter the amount of resistance he gave.

"And I suppose if I don't, you'll take me into custody anyway?" Zuko asked sarcastically and dropped his hands. It was hard to let them approach him and roughly tie his hands behind his back with a reinforced wire-hemp rope. He glowered silently as they lead him out of the riverbank and into the left side of the forest. Looking over his shoulder, Zuko spotted a small gold glint in the river. It was the dagger, but the feeling in his stomach told him it was also hope he was leaving behind.

The firebender camp was located near the riverbed, giving Zuko the idea that they had spotted him while going to gather water. He decided it wasn't smart to listen to his gut today; it had already led him into an unwanted situation. And, surprisingly, Sokka was still heavy in his mind. The other teen's face smiling and smirking behind Zuko's vision.

"Take the prisoner to his chambers," the leader said as they entered camp. There were three tents. Two were for sleeping but the third, he suspected, was for him. There were guardposts surrounding the entire cloth contraption and as he was led toward it, men rushed to man their positions, standing tall and foreboding against the burgundy fabric. Beyond them, four komodo rhinos were corralled, their large saddles set in the shade of the trees.

"Prince Zuko," said his captor and stopped in front of him, the men guiding the prince immediately stopping also. "You are to be held here until word is sent to Commander Zhao's ship. We will begin our trek to the rendezvous point with the ship tomorrow morning. For now, enjoy your accommodations." Turning on his heel, the soldier ended his monotonous speech quickly and walked toward the largest of the tents, calling over to another man.

Zuko saw no more as he entered the tent. It was sparse inside. There was a small table and a matching rug. Bedding was further in the corner, where a small futon lay with blankets folded atop it. It would have been a pleasant welcome compared to sleeping on leaves and roots if Sokka's face didn't dance around the prince's mind, reminding him he still had to return and retrieve the other teen.

One man behind him undid the bonds and, upon taking a better look at the bandages on the prince's arms, asked, "Do you require a healer?"

The answer was a swift, curt, "No."

Nodding the man left the tent and another entered, this time holding a clean folded uniform. Zuko rubbed his wrists as the man bowed and handed him the clothing. Once Zuko accepted them, the man turned and bowed again, leaving the tent.

It was unusual, Zuko found, the formality the soldier had used was uncommon, even if the prince was the prisoner. He shrugged it off and concentrated on changing into the clean clothes. They were gray, the formal, thick under clothing to armor. He, of course, did not have the top armor, consisting of a breastplate and shoulder guards. What he was provided with was the traditional bottom part of the armor.

He finished tucking the last of the pant into his boots and folded his old cloths neatly, setting them on the floor, near the opening to the tent. The clothes were much warmer and he found himself falling under their spell, his eyelids drooping. He shook his head and folded his legs beneath him on the mat. He needed to concentrate; he needed a plan.

Meditation was hindered due to the chatter that seemed to spring from the outside camp. The rhinos bellowed and the men were quick to turn to each other, gladly discussing their final capture.

"…Caught up with General Iroh a few days ago…"

Zuko's eyes snapped open. He'd never been one to eavesdrop, but the opportunity was too great. He needed to know what had happened to his uncle and crew. Momentarily, Sokka faded from his mind and he concentrated on the soldier's voice.

"…Have you heard that Captain's speeches?"

"Yes, they're intriguing. Did you know he was in the forty…"

Zuko growled softly and tried to catch the first soldier's voice again. Instead he seemed to be hearing only the conversation between two of his guards.

"I'm not completely sure whether it's safe, I mean… _you know_."

"It isn't. We could all pay if it doesn't work…'

Zuko could care less for their banter. His attention was caught as someone stepped through the tent flap. It was an older man, nearly eighty judging by the lines on his face. He carried a box of supplies with him.

"Stand," he said in a superior tone and Zuko rose, glaring. The man set the box onto the table behind the prince and opened it. Inside, there were many vials, gauze, and silver instruments that Zuko chose to ignore. The man was the healer.

"Roll up your cuffs," the elderly man ordered.

"I don't need a healer," Zuko scoffed and remained still.

Weasel eyes, small and dark, glinted in the dim light. The man set down the gauze and stared at the prince with a piercing glare. "You can do this the easy way or the hard way. Must I call for some men to hold you down like a common hooligan? Either way, I don't care."

Snorting in indignant response, Zuko rolled up his left sleeve. He had difficulty with the right, but it mattered little, because there wasn't any damage there. The other man drew a thin blade and cut away the old gauze, mumbling how the wrapping was flawed and such. Zuko got the distinct impression the man did not want to be anywhere near him.

It was an interesting thought that occurred to him while standing and waiting for the old healer to finish up. The old man was born without an element in the time of war, when the war was young and fresh. When the war may truly have held a promise of glory and a citizen of the Fire Nation without power was often given such a task. Most were grateful not to work in factories or suffer banishment, but this man was old. He had lived through many deaths, seen many die - many in his care. He'd seen the brutality of earthbenders and powerful water benders. Thus, he was loyal to the Fire Lord out of spite for the opposing nations.

It was the new generation that was finding the true nature of war much sooner than the past had. He and Sokka were among those youths, and it was these people who were beginning to realize the extent to which this war would push the world. People like Heika, willing to risk their existence for a hope. For their prince. Because they knew, and felt Zuko also knew, the war would only lead to the end.

A sharp pain in his arm snapped Zuko's attention back to the healer. The man was examining the bone, tutting to himself as he shook his head.

"What is it?" Zuko asked with a raised eyebrow. The man's expression wasn't a good sign.

"Nothing," the man said coldly. "Nothing. Just a normal break." Zuko scowled darkly, at the other. Inconsiderate bastard.

The man dropped Zuko's arm and the prince hissed in pain, air escaping through his teeth. He instinctively caught his injured arm and pulled it closer to his side, glaring that the healer. The man didn't seem to notice and rummaged through his supplies, muttering. He glanced up darkly and said, "I need thicker gauze."

"Then go get it," Zuko instructed angrily. The man was testing his nerves.

"Don't think I'll obey you," the man spat. "Little traitor." Nevertheless, he made his way to the flap of the tent and left, grumbling all the while.

Zuko watched him leave silently; hoping the increased temperature in the tent was giving him the message. He spent a few more seconds glaring at the spot where the man had disappeared before turning away. Immediately, his eyes fell on the open supply box. Gingerly, he let his arm go and, with his right hand, reached down to riffle through the small vile casings. There were various poisons, most of which Zuko had heard of. His fingers stopped on a single vile marked "general - antidote".

Stealing was never something the prince had enjoyed. He took no honor in the act, but reminded himself the antidote was what both he and Sokka needed the most at the moment - other than freedom, of course. Picking the vile up, he slid it into the back of his boot, grimacing at the dishonorable feeling spreading throughout his being. It was necessary, he reminded himself.

The flap flew open before he could finish through the box for another vile. Zuko finished stuffing the vile into the back of his right boot and glanced up at the man, giving him a questioning look. Suspiciously, the elder made his way to his supplies and checked them quickly. He turned back to Zuko and motioned for the prince's arm.

Reluctantly, Zuko complied and raised his left arm. The man quickly set new splints and bound it begrudgingly. Finishing the task with a grunt and quick tight tie, the man turned away from the prince and began to put away his supplies. As if someone was forcing him to, the healer said, "Don't apply pressure. The break is clean but you risk shattering more bone."

Then in a dramatic turn, the man closed the box loudly and scooped it up, headed for the door. Zuko watched him leave with the same intensity as he had the first time.

Time slunk by and the prince found himself laying on the futon, staring into the top of the tent. The prattle of the guards caught his attention occasionally but his mind was intent on finding a way out of the camp. He was trapped. If he were to escape he would only fortify the accusations and give Zhao the chance he needed to truly deem the prince a traitor. If he stayed, Sokka would die and he would be carted off to Zhao's harbor, where he would undergo judgment and - most likely - lose.

He would not see Zhao again under such circumstances.

As if to reinforce the thought, there was a clap of thunder and the rain came pouring down. The sky rumbled and fell onto the encampment in full force. There was a familiar feel to the draft of cold air that seemed to shoot through the tent and Zuko's thoughts turned back to Sokka and the pine. He did not want the boy to die.

The situation remained the same until a wet soldier came forth, caring a covered plate. Zuko did not realize he had entered until another colder draft flew through the tent and hit him. He sat up and found the man placing the plate on the small table. With a curt nod, the soldier turned away and closed the flaps.

There was a moment of hesitation as he stared down the plate containing a bowl of soup and a large piece of grilled meat. Reluctantly, he gave into his stomach and started on the soup. Fresh, warm food was a joy to have but he had enough self-restraint not to eat like Sokka. Instead he reminded himself this was the last warm meal he would have in a long time. He would escape the camp tonight, in the rain.

Once the soup was downed and the meat was pulled from the bone, Zuko focused on the task ahead. He was aware the guards had not switched in the past four to six hours, meaning they would soon. He couldn't wait that long. It was best to take out a tired guard before the refreshed one came to relieve him.

Thunder shook the earth and the rain continued beating down. Zuko shifted his position and stayed at the foot of the futon, his right hand unconsciously finding the vile in the back of his boot. It was burning in the back of his mind, it had been since he'd stolen it - he only chose to ignore it. There was only enough in the vile for one person.

Of course, there was the chance Zhao had used something entirely foreign. There was no absolute. Zuko shook his head and pushed the vile back into his boot. There was a more pressing matter - how to escape.

Another clap of thunder and the guard at the back of the tent jumped a bit. Zuko caught the movement at the corner of his eye. The man's head dropped a little after the initial shock and Zuko guessed he was falling into a slow, light slumber. It wasn't perfect, but it would do. Attacking a sleeping man was ideal - if not disgraceful - but the drowsy guard would do, also.

Zuko stood next to the man, close enough to touch shoulders. He could barely hear the soft inhale and exhale of the soldier over the rain. The thunder clapped and Zuko was close enough to the thick material to see the lightening flash outside. The soldier looked up again and sighed deeply, regretfully. Zuko waited, counting the seconds until the thunder began to rumble and continued to count.

Upon the thirteenth second he struck. As the lighting illuminated the sky, Zuko aimed his right fist at the soldier's temple. His fist collided with the tent and traveled into the soldier. The hit had to be precise, any mistake and they'd come in and bind him back up. It was understood that he acknowledged his defeat, but he had never verbally surrendered. It was an assumption on the soldier's part.

There was a thump and the soldier fell into the muddied grass. Zuko waited a second to see if any of the other soldiers seemed to notice, but their shadows stood still and grim. Without further hesitation he placed his hand an inch away from the thick fabric. It would be fireproof, but only to a degree. If the intensity of the flame was strong enough it could burn through.

Zuko glared and felt the room warm. There was a small fire burning intensely under his hand. The burgundy tarp was becoming black, but it showed no signs of giving in. Angered, Zuko halted the flame and grabbed at each side of the circular burn. He pulled at it and a small tear appeared in the fabric. Quickly he grabbed at the tear, pulling each side apart.

The sound of tearing cloth was lost in the rain and thunder. Zuko smirked to himself and stepped through the rip when it was large enough. Rain assaulted his face and eyes, causing him to squint at his victim. The guard was laying face down in the mud, bubbles escaping his mouth. Grudgingly, Zuko sat him up against the tent. There was no point in killing the man.

The weather was dim and dark. Zuko waited for the lightening to flash again before starting off in a jog toward the rhino corral. Under the cover of darkness he made it to the large animals. They recognized him and let out a bellowing greeting, thankfully it was lost in the wind. Zuko waited for the next flash and took off once it disappeared, Sokka's words regarding rain in the back of his head, "…_it would be easier for the two of us to move than an entire troop, especially through the undergrowth… and if they wanted to take the rhinos. Heh_."

Zuko slinked into the woods and doubled back, ducking under the brushwood and low handing branches. He would continue with the regular plan, following the river. Breath caught in his chest as he traced the familiar trail back to the riverbed. It wasn't acceptable on his part. Escaping like a fugitive… but if that was what Zhao had turned him into…

Zuko's thought's stopped as he reached the river. It was substantially wider than he remembered, but the current wasn't strong. He trudged through the water; thankful it was ankle deep and found a recognizable area illuminated in moonlight. The dagger didn't glint in the moonlight; instead it shined with a different sense of prominence. Zuko had found it wedged against a rock and pulled it out of the water.

Turning toward the black forest he slid the dagger into the belt and shook some of the water from his hair. He was drenched but his bending was keeping him warm enough. So, walking with the dagger at his side and the cure in the back of his boot, he set off to find Sokka.

**To Be Continued In…**

**Chapter Ten: **_**Heart Scarring Darker Still**_

Sokka's feeling of betrayal leads to further complications when Zuko shows up to rescue him. And what about the antidote?

[_edited 03.15.2009_]


	10. Heart Scarring Darker Still

**Chapter Ten: Heart Scarring Darker Still**

The firebender was leaning against a pine tree, catching his breath, as Sokka rounded on him. It was going to be asinine and he knew it, but instead of holding back, he said, "_You're_ such a bastard."

It wasn't a long sprint from the earthbender encampment, but he knew the earthebenders wouldn't pursue a mere water tribesman. Half of their patrol was already looking for the prince - who happened, somehow, to stumble back into the camp and cut the binding that held Sokka - the other half of the patrol was to inexperienced to track, let alone, trek through the forest. It was safe to rest for the time being. They were careless when they bound him - although this time tighter, tight enough to keep him from struggling against the knots for fear of the continuous pain increasing with movement. Then, after they'd finished that him, they left and he was alone. Sokka had watched, tied to the familiar pole, as a party of five earthbenders set out to follow Zuko's path. The captain, Yan Shi, and the greener recruits were left behind in the camp. Sokka had spent much of the time brooding in his isolated state.

He could still feel the firebender's hands on him, pushing him - throwing him - back toward the their collective enemy. Once a firebender, always a firebender and Sokka wondered when he had forgotten that truth, cursing himself.

There was, and always had been, that perverse hope in his chest, wishing and naively believing that maybe, just maybe, they could be friends or allies, at least. The hope had been trampled and crumpled through their journey, yet as they walked along the roots and discussed their lives it had recover and slowly began to grow. The day before, of course, Sokka felt it die. He couldn't imagine why the firebender would come back for him, and yet, he had.

Zuko's eyes were glowing with a deadly intensity Sokka unconsciously associated with a white-hot flame. "You ungrateful, brat."

"Me?" Sokka said and crossed his arms. "Let's remember who threw who."

Zuko regarded him with a cold composure, his eyes still deadly. There was, Sokka noticed, something in his gaze or, perhaps, in his stance that seemed to want to end the fruitless argument quickly. Zuko exhaled and said lowly, "It was for the better."

"What the hell does that mean?"

It was immature, and Sokka was sure it didn't help the situation much, but he was angry. Angry and confused. If Zuko hadn't used him to escape, they may as well still have been bound. But, as the prince had said before, there were other opportune moments. Sokka had wished for the past day that Zuko had chosen another moment. Furthermore, Zuko was wearing a different uniform. If Sokka was correct in guessing, he'd run into other firebenders over the past twenty-four hours. The thought unnerved Sokka; one firebender was enough. It also meant that Zuko had, most likely, escaped. They were near and they were restless.

The prince didn't respond, instead he motioned for Sokka to follow him. "I'm sure the ports are this way." And judging by the moss on the trees and the sun's apex, he was right.

"How'd you become Mr. Naturalist, all of a sudden?" Sokka asked, he still didn't quite understand what was going on. It wasn't as if the prince would come back for him without any other reason than morality. And how did he know where to go?

"Simple," Zuko said plainly. "They're in the opposite direction of Bei Bian. The earthbender camp was facing the city. I could tell, I followed their tracks from the meadow."

_Should have guessed_. Sokka scoffed and followed behind the prince. He didn't know why he was following. But he needed to reach the ports just as much as the prince did.

Zuko's escape from the earthbenders had sent a small rift through their bond and Sokka wondered, was it as if their relationship was devolving back into the post waterfall silence? Whether it was or it wasn't, he was going to stay out of arms reach from the prince. At all times. What trust had lay between them was now shattered and to walk on it was painfully tedious.

"Did you get anything else besides the clothes?" Sokka asked curiously and the prince haltered in his steps, recovering quickly.

"No."

"Really?" Sokka found himself slightly intrigued as the firebender quickened his pace. Sokka took a few jogging steps and found himself in line with the prince, but still over an arm's length away. "And I suppose they just let you walk out, unscathed."

"Unlike you, I can save my own ass." Zuko remarked darkly, catching Sokka's gaze for a second.

"Well, I've got some information," Sokka said with a haughty tone. "I was lucky enough to have a private speaking with captain Yan Shi. He mentioned something you might find relevant."

"I highly doubt it."

Sokka thought for a moment, then struck. "It's about Zhao."

"Then tell me, it concerns you, too, I suppose."

Sokka felt a dark smirk graze his lips. "Not until you tell me what _exactly_ happened with the firebenders."

Zuko stopped and faced Sokka with a irritated expression. "It's not as if much happened. I turned back for you and they found me. They took me back to their camp and locked me up. I was stuck in a fucking tent for hours. It rained eventually and I escaped."

Sokka felt a bit taken back by the tone. With a resigned sigh, he said, "Zhao's been promoted to Admiral."

"What?"

"Yeah, the earthbenders have a pretty effective spy network, or so I've heard. What worried them is that he hasn't been doing much lately, his men are being transferred in and out from different divisions around the area, apparently, on his request."

Zuko looked contemplative. "Did you find out anything about the Avatar?"

"No," Sokka said with much disappointment and Zuko turned away. Whatever the prince was thinking about, he didn't share it with Sokka, and the water tribesman was left to his own devices.

"_From what I can tell, the Fire Nation's growing closer and closer to Bai Sing Sei… people on either side are growing short, and not only because of death. The more land the Fire nation takes, the more troops are needed to secure and defend it. The more land the enemy takes, the more of our men are needed to defend it. Sometimes I think both sides will just run out and die… it might be better, for the most part…"_ Yan Shi's superciliously toned voice was ringing in his ears. The captain had been standing in front of him, arms crossed behind his back. There was a piercing element to his gaze, which Sokka held.

When Sokka asked the captain about any news of water tribesmen from the south, the older man wasn't sure. Sokka was beginning to think Zuko was right.

He remembered Zuko telling him his father was dead. He remembered telling Zuko his father did not love him. They'd fought and nearly killed each other, and for what? Both were most likely true. Under the waterfall, Zuko had referred to them as "casualties". Sokka was sure the entire world was a casualty by now.

Sokka stopped instinctively when Zuko's footfalls ceased. The prince was staring blatantly at him with a particular expression; it seemed to be a mix of hesitance and confusion. Sokka stared back, sure his own expression was questioning.

Zuko turned his head away and said, "We'll stop by that stream for a while. I need to speak with you."

"Uh… sure." Sokka scratched his own head and followed the firebender through the trees and underbrush they'd been crawling through for the past hours. He was sure neither he nor the prince needed the rest, but there was definitely something weighing heavily on the prince's mind.

The stream was small, to small for trout, so Sokka sat on a boulder, pulling his legs up to his chest and watched Zuko pace. It was defiantly uncharacteristic for the prince to show indecision.

"Spit it out," Sokka said with less tact than ever.

The prince stopped and stared at him. The mismatched golden orbs scrutinized the tribesman for a few more agonizing seconds and Sokka felt much smaller and younger, under the gaze. The dim light from above was trickling onto them in freckled patterns. Occasionally, a ray would catch the prince's unscarred eyes and illuminate the hue. It reminded Sokka faintly of the dreams he'd had during the journey. He had no idea what they meant; interpretation was usually left in the air.

"Here." Zuko produced a vile from the back of his right boot and held it up to Sokka's face. Sokka accepted it out of custom and studied the liquid inside. It was a clear light green, not like pond water, but what a thin, thin, leaf looked like when held to block the sun.

Zuko was staring at him intently. "Drink it."

"What?"

"Don't make me repeat myself," the prince said with a tone of vexation. He continued to watch the other boy watch him back.

"Why?" Sokka said suddenly suspicious. "What the hell is it?"

"If you're assuming its poison, you're wrong, "Zuko said and crossed his arms. "I wouldn't bother killing you after we've gone this far. If I wanted you dead, you would be." Zuko was waiting impatiently as Sokka stared at him.

"Why should I?"

The question was fair, the question was earnest. Zuko ignored it. "If you don't want it then I'll take it back."

"What is it?"

Zuko seemed to loose his edge and stalked forward, toward Sokka. The tribesman dropped his knees and began to slide off the boulder when Zuko caught his shoulder with his right hand. The grip wasn't painful, but even so, Sokka winced back and tried the back away. He failed to succeed, and remained pressed against the boulder. Sokka was suddenly aware of how close they were. An uncomfortable feeling spread out in his stomach.

"Z-Zuko?" Sokka cursed his voice for cracking. He knew his eyes were wide and fearful, for a second he wished he could knock the prince back and stand over him, telling him what an ass he was. Telling him things, stereotypes, that he knew didn't apply to the prince but could be applied.

"You insolent peasant." Zuko's voice was lower and more quiet than usual. Nevertheless, his gaze held a commanding air. "You don't understand how much I've risked for you already, do you? I came back for you because I…" Zuko stopped, looking a bit dismayed at the sentence structure. Sokka was frozen, partially out of fear, but mostly out of shock. What exactly was the prince trying to say?

"Sokka." He took a deep breath and exhaled. Zuko's face immediately turned away, so that Sokka could only see the unscathed eye. His gaze had dropped down to the ground, eyes lowered along with the tilt of his neck. "I care about you."

It was silent. Dead still, as if the creatures were waiting for something to happened. Sokka found himself frozen along with time. His mind reeled. He'd expected the prince to force the drink upon him. Instead the prince was encouraging that perverse hope, nearly healing it with four words. _I care about you._ It was hard to understand exactly what the prince meant.

Sokka waited, he wasn't sure how long, but he waited. What he waited for he wasn't sure of either. The area around him was waiting, so he did, too. It wasn't until he felt the prince's fingers on his shoulder tighten slightly that he realized it was _him_ everything waited for.

"W-What do you mean?" The surroundings seemed to burst back into life and time flowed at its normal pace.

Zuko's good eye glanced at Sokka and the prince said, "I came back for you out of honor." Fingers from the injured arm brushed against the vile and Sokka's own. "I'm giving you this because I don't want to see you dead."

There was another strenuous breath and Zuko turned fully toward Sokka, gold caught cobalt. "You're poisoned. You probably have a week left, less than even. I'm giving you the antidote."

Sokka was still. The prince had known all along… in fact, he had probably planned for Sokka's death. It was now, just now, that the tribesman had been handed a second chance. Still… "How?"

"Zhao did it," Zuko said and Sokka caught the familiar venom in the name. "We - you should have a few more weeks or days before the effects hit you. It's slow acting, but I'm pretty surprised it hasn't begun to effect you yet."

Sokka stayed silent, his eyes fixed on the topaz irises that stared so intently back into his. He was searching, or at least he felt as though he was, for something in those eyes. Zuko leaned in, closer. "Trust me, Sokka." Then, in almost a pleading whisper. "_Please_."

Sokka held the gaze and raised the hand holding the vile, so that the small glass container was held evenly between them. Zuko stepped back and turned away, Sokka could tell from the way he held himself that the confession was something he'd never done before. Still, the perverse hope was spreading its fledgling wings, stretching. Just before he uncapped the vile and brought it to his lips, Sokka whispered, loud enough for Zuko to hear, "Thank you."

**--- **

Zuko heard the tribesman approach him from behind. He was standing at the stream's edge, he had been for the past five or six minutes, contemplating.

It wasn't a smart choice and he knew it. His logical mind was cursing him for forgetting to look out for number one. He should have taken the antidote instead of the other teen. Unfortunately he held a great weakness when his logic and morals battled each other. Moral, more than once, had won and it won again this time. Sokka was no longer the prisoner, Idiot, peasant, loudmouth he'd dubbed him as. Sokka was close, much closer than anyone had ever gotten to him. It was logical to sever the tie with Sokka's death. Logic said Zhao was the one who would have killed Sokka. Moral countered, pointing out Zuko had the chance to save Sokka and didn't - it was just as much of the prince's fault as it was the newly promoted Admiral…

_Admiral_. Zuko scoffed. How did Zhao become and Admiral when he'd lost two important prisoners and the Avatar in the same week? The only explanation seemed to lead to inside influence. Someone had defiantly aided Zhao, someone who could benefit from the change or from Zhao's favor.

His fingers tapped the jade dagger at his belt. _Sokka_. It had been easy to rescue the other teen. The encampment hadn't moved and their prisoner was left unguarded. Most of the patrol, he suspected, had left to find him. He'd slipped into the camp at full noon and cut the bonds around Sokka's wrists. Then, covertly, they'd left. It was all too easy.

The harder part came when they were out of hearing range. The Idiot continued to berate him for leaving him with the earthbenders. The fool couldn't see they had both benefited from the separation. It was that kind of behavior that tempted Zuko to pummel the tribesman.

"Hey." The universal greeting reached Zuko's ears with hints of hesitation and uncertainty.

Zuko turned toward the tribesman; Sokka was averting his eyes to the ground. "Uh…" Sokka was looking uncomfortable as he shifted his weight to the other foot.

"We should start moving again," Zuko said and brushed past. It was blatantly obvious the other teen was abashed by his previous behavior. His mind was most likely pondering over what Zuko had told him - that he cared. Why should a prince care about some one like him? Zuko hadn't fully rationalized through that thought yet either, but he knew he did.

The twisted form of a relationship was as close as Zuko had ever come to friendship. Iroh was family; there was a natural bond that existed between them through blood. But a bond like that did not exist between the tribesman and himself. The bond that held them together was much like the shackles - given to them during the war, through the Fire Nation, through pain. Although the shackles had been taken off, Zuko could still feel them on his wrist. He didn't want to lose that feeling.

"Hey!" Sokka was jogging up to him. Zuko didn't need to turn around or slow down; Sokka caught up quickly and kept pace. "So we're sticking to the original plan."

"We are," Zuko said and watched Sokka through the corner of his good eye. "Unless you can think of something else."

Sokka was silent for a while and his stillness sparked the prince's interest. "I'm still a little bit confused on whats going to happen when we get there," Sokka said after the pause.

"We'll go our separate ways."

"Oh." There was a definite hint of disappointment in Sokka's voice but it was quickly covered. "Okay."

The decision wasn't final, but Zuko was sure he didn't need the tribesman for anything else. It was true he was a friend of the Avatars, but what else could he provide information wise. It wasn't as if Zuko cared whether the monk liked lantern berries or not. Sokka would prove to complicate his mission, but his honor wouldn't let him leave the forest owing the tribesman anything other than a good punch to the stomach.

"So," Sokka said slowly and pushed through a thicket. "That's it then. We'll just pretend none of this ever happened. You'll keep hunting Aang and I'll keep protecting him."

"It seems that way," Zuko answered and regretted it. "You don't expect me to drop the most important thing in my life because we've been stuck in some godforsaken forest for a few weeks."

"We've been through more than that," Sokka muttered lowly and Zuko almost didn't catch it.

It was true - very true. But it wasn't as if he could pause everything and change it to fit both their situations. They were on opposite sides of the war, even if they weren't necessarily enemies. He sighed and said, "I know."

"Then why can't we…" Sokka trailed off. His face still tilted to the ground as if the forest floor held the answer.

"Life is never fair," Zuko said. "And we all have our purposes. I'm to capture the Avatar, you've devoted yourself to aiding him."

"Fuck life then," Sokka scoffed and kicked at a loose rock. The pebble was sent skidding into the underbrush ahead. "I still don't understand why you have to capture Aang anyway."

"I believe we've already had this conversation," Zuko stated and looked toward the sun. It had begun to curve toward the west, sending a deep orange glow across the sky. Another night.

They were quiet for the rest of the journey. Sokka seemed to be contemplating everything that had happened, Zuko had decided not to think of it and concentrate on sending heat throughout his body. It was all he could do to keep the poison at bay until he reached the ports.

When the sun had disappeared behind the horizon and the gray veil fell. They stopped among a grove of large oak trees. Sokka complained about how hungry he was as Zuko started a small fire, using the flames to vent his own irritation. Sokka eventually quieted and spread himself out on the opposite side of the fire, placing his cheek against his fist. He stared intently at Zuko.

"So how long have we been out here anyway?" Sokka had lifted his hand, counting on his fingers.

"It's been a week," Zuko answered and sat down, cross-legged.

"Only a week," Sokka mused. "It seems longer doesn't it?"

"It does."

Sokka rolled on his back. "When will we reach the ports."

"If we make good time we should reach then in two days."

"Two days, huh?" Sokka's voice was tired and sleepy. Zuko could see his eyes close and chest continue to rise and fall. "I always thought it would take me years to ever trust a firebender…"

Zuko had never though he'd ever care about anyone besides himself, his uncle, or his crew. They'd both proved each other wrong. A cynical smirk found it's way onto Zuko's lips as he thought of his uncle - what the great general would say when he told him. Iroh would be proud - skeptical, but proud.

"This has been the weirdest week of my life, and my life is pretty weird so that's saying something" Sokka said through sleep's grasp. He chuckled to himself. "I mean I've gone from firebenders to earthbenders to kissing a prince… pretty damn weird."

_Kissing_? Zuko's gaze suddenly shot toward the boy, they had not kissed. Zuko shook his head. It didn't matter what they had done, in a matter of days their lives would continue as normally as they could. As long as they escaped the forest, they could leave the past buried within the sea of trees and shade.

Sokka rolled on his side and curled toward the fire, mumbling to himself. "Have you ever kissed anyone?" he asked with some incoherency.

"What kind of question is that?" Zuko snapped. He wasn't really intending to classify their _necessity_ as a kiss.

Sokka cracked one eye open and stared at Zuko through the flames. "A personal one."

Zuko felt himself frown and then sigh. "I'm a prince, interpret it however you want."

Sokka seemed to be interested and opened both eyes. "So, you have a harem or something?"

"No," Zuko said quickly. He'd meant he had little time for frolicking about with women.

"So you haven't kissed anyone before?"

"Have you?"

"Yes!" Sokka said proudly.

"Good for you."

"But you haven't?"

There was a pause. "What does it matter anyway?"

"It doesn't," Sokka said. "I just want to know."

There was a small stab of pain from his stomach and Zuko dismissed it as hunger. It had been over twelve hours since they both ate. Zuko lie on his back and calmed the fire until it was merely embers. In the morning he'd find something to eat.

"You're not going to answer me, are you?" Sokka asked from his side.

"That's right."

Sokka chuckled again and Zuko could feel him simper. "I really like you, Zuko."

For a second Zuko interpreted it differently than it was meant - or he thought it was meant. Zuko decided he hated falling asleep more than sleep itself - Sokka was nearly incoherent. In the morning he'd remember little of what he said.

"I suppose I'll lower myself and admit you're tolerable." Zuko hoped he was still awake as he added, "for a whining, idiot, of a peasant."

Sokka obviously heard it and snorted out a laugh. "I love you, too, Zuko."

**To Be Continued In…**

**Chapter Eleven: **_**If You Die Before I Wake**_

The poison takes it's toll on Zuko and Sokka is forced to do the unthinkable - surrender.

[_edited 03.15.2009_]


	11. If You Die Before I Wake

**Chapter Eleven: If You Die Before I Wake**

It was warm and Sokka rolled over wishing the sunlight wasn't as bright as it was comfortable. There was a soft breeze running across his face and the sounds of morning were beginning to catch in his ears. It was gradual but the light pervaded and he was forced to open his eyes against the assault. Sokka sat up and rubbed at his face, the last bits of sleepiness clinging desperately to his eyelids.

When he was coherent enough to think, his mind dropped into his gut as he rubbed at his stomach. Breakfast. Stretching a bit, he turned and surveyed the campsite. Sunlight was pouring through the trees, casting yellow splotches across the ground, like puddles of gold. Instinctively Sokka froze, with the speed and precision of a Yuuyan arrow, his thoughts suddenly turned darker and he looked around the campsite again. There was no sign of the prince, save for the crushed grass opposite the fire pit where Zuko had slept that night.

Sokka was immediately on his feet. "Zuko?" There was no answer. "Zuko! Where the hell are you?"

The tribesman turned around and around again, the campsite spinning radically in his vision. The large oak trees were looming in closer and closer, as if they were about to either whisk him away like the prince or crush him under their immense weight. Sokka stopped as the vertigo and dizziness threatened to push him down. He waited a few seconds for it to subside.

He couldn't help feel conflicted. It would be to his advantage if the prince decided to leave, but there was a distinct feeling crawling around dejectedly in his stomach. He wasn't quite sure what it was. The entire situation was still odd, though. They had grown so close; it seemed almost uncharacteristic for Zuko to immediately leave - at least without telling him or killing him. It was too underhanded for the prince's nature.

There was a crunching sound from his right side and his head snapped toward it instantly. His newly aware mind was beginning to full with ideas, some probable and some highly impossible. Finally, after a few seconds of dark thoughts he called out: "Zuko? Is that you?" and prepared to dive behind the nearest oak trunk if the answer wasn't from the prince.

Sokka didn't have to wait long, a scratchy voice answered back, "Who else would it be?"

The prince pushed through a thicket and stumbled into camp, stopping short of the fire pit to pull leaves from his uniform. He spared a glance at Sokka and returned to his clothing. "I want to leave as soon as possible. If we hurry we should be able to reach the dock sooner than I thought. Maybe even in a day and a half."

Sokka wasn't sure how to respond so he shrugged. "Sure, why not." But after his stomach lurched in protest he added, "But I need to eat something."

Zuko finished cleaning his clothes and looked up. "Fine. You'll just have to find it on the way."

Sokka crossed his arms. It would be hard to find anything. Winter was coming and the fruits of last summer had long since dropped. It would be lucky if they found a moon peach tree or even lantern berries. Besides, he was sick of fruit.

Zuko was kicking dirt and leaves over the fire pit when Sokka's attention returned from brooding. The prince's usual ashen complexity looked lighter and, perhaps, a bit grayer than usual in the dim light. Sokka refrained from asking the prince if was all right and began to kick at the grass and leaves on which he'd slept, attempting to restore them to the position and quality he had found them in.

Finally, when the campsite was restored to something close to its former appearance, Sokka turned toward the deep woods and found himself staring into the dark, open mouth of some beast. Reluctantly he stepped past a large oak trunk. Zuko was following behind him and Sokka could feel the cold intensity of the prince's eyes on his neck. Zuko wanted the leave as soon as possible.

"So," Sokka said attempting to strike up another conversation. "What's with the rush?"

"Firebenders." Zuko's voice was clear and quick to answer. "I think I saw some smoke in the distance this morning."

"I don't see anything." Sokka turned to look at the prince.

Zuko snorted and avoided his eyes. "You were asleep."

"Then why didn't you wake me up?" Sokka felt a little betrayed. It wasn't fair to keep him in the dark. Although the prince had grown stronger in the past week Sokka found that he wanted to feel needed. It wasn't as if he could protect the prince - Zuko was perfectly capable of escaping from both earthbenders and firebenders, as he'd proven. Sokka liked to feel as if, in some way, the prince needed him, too. It was almost possessive, almost the same way he felt toward Katara and Aang. This was different, though, and he wasn't sure exactly how.

"You could have woken me up," Sokka finally said dejectedly and held a branch back so it didn't catch the prince in the face.

With a nod of thanks the prince answered snidely, "_That_ is nearly impossible."

"Haha," Sokka said dryly and smiled. "At least I can get to sleep. You're a friggin' insomniac."

The prince failed to answer and Sokka felt his companions thoughts turn darker. Silently he slapped himself. He must have struck a nerve or something deeper. But before he could apologize, the prince simply said, "I don't like to sleep."

"I don't like…" Sokka paused and thought. "…Earthbenders… well, accept for maybe Haru's people. They were pretty kick ass in the end."

"What about firebenders?" Zuko asked and came into step with Sokka as the forest thinned slightly. "I thought you hated them."

"So far I don't hate one of them," Sokka said. "I don't like Zhao and the Fire Lord to much. Heika and his men were decent… What don't you like?"

"Sister, Zhao, earthbenders also…" Zuko tilted his head slightly and Sokka caught the action out of the corner of his eye. "In general, I dislike much of my father's court."

Sokka knew it would push the issue, but he tended not to always listen to his instincts. It needed to be said again. "What about your father?"

Topaz eyes caught Sokka's fiercely. "I never said I liked him, did I?"

"No… but you're always going on and on about restoring your honor." It was something Sokka was yet to understand. His life had been based on his family and his village. With the Avatar he'd begun to see the world and experience new cultures. The warrior women of Kyoshi, Haru's village and the prisoners kept by the warden… they were all different and all honorable in their own ways. They all were heroes and all on the "right side". He had begun to see Zuko in the same light, yet the prince's constant seeking of honor - which, in Sokka's opinion, had never been lost - and loyalty to the "wrong side" caused Sokka to waver between seeing him as a hero and a villain. Zuko was, Sokka assumed, an antihero - a character lost in between the lines but perceived as the villain by many and most of the people who knew his name.

"Your society does not hold the same values as mine," Zuko said with a monotonous voice. "I've told you before. The Fire Nation is the only place I belong."

"I don't think so," Sokka said firmly. "Are you saying just because I'm from the Water Tribe I should stay at the South Pole?"

"No", Zuko admitted with a resounding sigh. "I'm a firebender. We play by different rules."

"But you _are_ saying that," Sokka scoffed and kicked at a loose root. "Just because you're a firebender you have to follow certain rules and traditions."

"We discussed this before. " Zuko's voice was colder than usual and Sokka decided it was time to drop the subject. The prince was, for lack of a better phrase, messed up. It was hard for him to accept the truth and cling onto the childish hope he'd created shortly after his banishment. He was never meant to find the Avatar, but it could be easily rationalized that his father had provided him with a second chance. Sokka was glad the Fire Lord had; for all the trouble Zuko had caused Aang, Katara and himself, Sokka was beginning to feel there was an upside.

"So…" Sokka said after they had walked in silence for a few more minutes. "Anybody in particular waiting for you to get back? Maybe a girl?"

Zuko glanced at him questioningly and then rolled his eyes. "Why are you so fixated with my personal life?"

"I'm just curious," Sokka said and shrugged. It was hard to hide the grin on his lips.

"I have my uncle, my crew, and the Avatar, but no 'girl'," Zuko said simply. "I don't have time to frolic around like some lovesick animal." The prince paused and looked over at Sokka. "What about you? When you save the world is there some poor woman in your village waiting for you to return?"

"No!" Sokka said with some offense. All the women in his village were at least twice his age. "My sister and I are the only teens in our whole village."

"Who'd you kiss then?" Zuko asked with a sneer. "Your sister?"

"No!" Sokka answered again, indignantly. "Her name is Suki and she's a warrior from Kyoshi Island."

"Oh." The prince pause to recall the event and seemed to refrain from saying: "_That_ decrepit little town I burnt down…" Zuko glanced curiously over at Sokka with an amused expression. Sokka, not having seen a mischievous glint in the prince's eyes before, nearly stopped and stepped back.

"What?" Sokka ask uncomfortably. "What is it?"

"I've been meaning to ask you why you were in that ridiculous dress."

Sokka felt himself blush self-consciously. "You knew that was me?"

"No amount of makeup could hide your unsightly features," Zuko said snidely, but there were traces of amusement on his lips and they twisted into a half smile half smirk. Despite the insult, Sokka was glad the prince's mood seemed to lighten.

"Whatever," Sokka said. "It's not as if you're to-die-for, either." His eyes drifted to the scar and he quickly added, "And that dress wasn't ridiculous, by the way, it symbolized strength and honor - something which you seem to be all about."

"Your point?"

Sokka continued to smile, his ears catching the soft lap of water not far away. "I think it would suit you, too." He didn't miss the prince's indignant snort as the stream came into view.

---

The stream proved to be abundant with both fish and a wide leafed plant Sokka called "taro". Sokka insisted on spearing the fish, which swam unthinkingly in the pool. Zuko was assigned to gather a few taro leaves and root and wash them. The task itself wasn't hard; it was slightly more degrading than catching the fish, though. With a frown set on his face, Zuko walked along the bank, not far from where Sokka was standing in knee-deep water holding a thin branch he'd carved into a spear.

Zuko pulled the dagger from his belt and knelt by the brook side. Cutting the stems was easy and he quickly had a small pile of four leaves next to him. Sokka let out a triumphant yell and held up the spear with a writhing fish on the end. Zuko turned away and looked into the water. His reflection was paler than it should have been. It worried him. Things were not right and if they didn't reach the docks soon… He shook his head and glared back at his image.

Detesting the already cold feel throughout his body, he reluctantly reached into the water and grasped at the stalk of one of the plants, pulling it from the silt and sand in the bank. A cloud of dirt rose in the water and floated downstream, toward Sokka. Ignoring the hope that Sokka might spear himself in the murky water, he turned to the taro roots and washed off the sienna colored dirt to reveal a darker brown root. Dismayed he broke the roots from the steam and tossed the rest of the plant aside.

Sokka was waiting downstream with two speared fish and a pile of wood. Zuko started a small fire without being told to and set the supplies he'd gathered out on a wide clean rock.

"What the hell are you going to do with this stuff?" Zuko knew it would be cooked, but how was what he wanted to know.

"Cook it," Sokka said causing Zuko to roll his eyes. "I'm not quite sure how though… I've never tried this without a pot or pan."

Zuko sighed as another stroke of weariness seemed to wash over him. "I'm sure you can devise something," he said dryly and sat down against a tree and closed his eyes.

"Are you okay?" Sokka asked from the fire pit. The conniving voice in Zuko's head wanted to shout; "No. And it's all thanks to you." Of course it wasn't Sokka's fault at all, it was merely that he existed at that point in time. That pivotal point at which Zuko had foolishly handed over the antidote to the poison they both were infected with. Zuko had always thought he had more time - perhaps another week or so.

He was sure the slight stabs of pain in his stomach were from the drug. He was also beginning to show other physical signs. His gain in pallor and the time in the morning spent in the bushes behind the campsite upturning his stomach were sure signs the poison was definantly beginning its takeover of his body systems. Worst of all, he wasn't sure what exactly the poison was. He was beginning to think that it was heat activated or that, perhaps, when he used his bending to circulate warmth throughout his body it wasn't only heat his blood was spreading.

"You okay, Zuko?" This time Sokka was much closer and much more concerned.

"I'm fine." Of course it was a complete lie. "Just make what ever you were going to."

Sokka seemed to back off and went back to the fire, musing over how to prepare the ingredients. Zuko listened to his mumbling before the darkness his closed eyes provided overtook him completely. He didn't remember what manifested in the darkness. He knew his father was there, he always seemed to remember that man the had been in his dream, yet hardly ever could he recall what the other man had done or said. He had a vague idea though.

"Hey, Zuko." Sokka was shaking his shoulder when he awoke. Groggily the prince looked up at the tribesman and noticed the sun had not moved much since the last time he'd seen it.

"Is the food ready?" Zuko asked and rubbed at his eyes.

"Yeah," Sokka said proudly. His demeanor seemed to change quickly and he took another long look at the prince. "Are you sure you're okay? You've been looking kinda pale."

"I'm fine," Zuko hissed and pushed himself up using the tree as a brace. His broken arm was still uncomfortable, but it wasn't as bad as the stabs in his stomach or the chill he felt sweep over his body.

Sokka seemed doubtful but left the matter be. He walked over to the dwindling fire. "Here." He handed a taro leaf to Zuko when the prince sat down next to him. On the leaf was a fish - cooked, headless, and gutted - a few white chunks of what seemed to be sliced taro roots and some steamed leaves. Although it wasn't as appetizing at it looked uncooked, Zuko took the makeshift plate with a nod of thanks.

"Usually this stuff would be boiled," Sokka said as he took his own leaf. "I ended up steaming everything in taro leaves. Sorry if it's kinda bland." It was but Zuko shrugged it off and bit into another piece of the root. "Oh yeah," Sokka reached over to his left and extracted the jade dagger. "I had to borrow this when you were asleep." The tribesmen swallowed his fish and added, "You sure mumble a lot."

"What did I say?" Zuko asked with some worry. Sleep was his most vulnerable state and he hated it.

"I don't know," Sokka said and continued eating. "I think you mentioned me and Zhao a few times. Should I have woken you up?"

"No. I never remember anything anyway."

Their meal continued in silence. It wasn't awkward or impolite; the two occupants seemed to find it necessary and natural. When they finished eating they tossed the used taro leaving into the stream and Zuko extinguished the fire, fearing the warmth in his fingertips would spread throughout his body and spread the poison further.

Time passed quickly as they moved through the woods. Sokka was avidly recalling some event from his childhood that Zuko would have listen to if his mind wasn't occupied by the sense of impending doom. It would be ironic, he thought, if Sokka wasn't actually poisoned - if he was the only one under the drug. He had gravely underestimated the poison and, perhaps, Zhao.

"Are you listening to me?" Sokka asked and received a questioning glance from Zuko that obviously meant "no". Sokka shrugged, "Fine then, suit yourself, I might just have revealed something about the avatar, though…" Zuko caught the smirk in his voice.

"You already told me he's going to the North Pole," Zuko said irritably and rubbed his head. "I don't really care about his dietary choices or anything."

Sokka seemed to be taken back by the snarl in Zuko's voice and didn't say anything, but shrugged and continued along. Zuko caught him glance back a few times, sensing a problem but too hesitant to ask what it was. Zuko was sure he could hold out for the next two or three days. It wouldn't take them that long to reach the ports and a healer. He was sure he could find some herbalist's shop there. What worried him was if they continued to stop unnecessarily.

He suddenly collided with Sokka's back and the tribesman turned to face him with a finger pressed against his lips. Sokka glanced over his shoulder and Zuko followed his gaze. The familiar red tents caught his eyes. Fainter, in the background noise of the forest he could have sworn he heard a komodo rhino bellow.

"Let's go around," Sokka suggested and turned back. Zuko nodded and followed reluctantly. He should have guessed Zhao would block his path into the ports. The newly appointed Admiral would have most likely assumed Zuko was under the influence of the poison by now - weak, helpless, and headed for a possible cure.

"This sucks," Sokka hissed and fell into step with the prince. Zuko felt his body shudder and the atmosphere seemed to chill him further. Zuko found himself agreeing.

---

Avoiding the firebender encampment took more time than either of them had expected. The afternoon grew into night and they rested in the darkness, shoulder to shoulder. Sokka had sensed a change in Zuko's demeanor. The prince was becoming more introversive; his snide comments were replaced with curt nods or a short "yes" or "no". Physically the prince seemed adequate. It was true his pallor had grown, but his strength and dexterity were as they had been. He didn't question the other teen, though. Sokka needed desperately to believe the prince would tell him if there was something wrong.

So as night turned into dawn and dawn to day the duo spent their time in silence, skirting around the edges of the firebender camp. There were no close calls and there were no mishaps. Sokka was sure it was going beyond well. Although they were skipping meals, Zuko reassured him that they were near the ports - near enough not to stop to eat. It wasn't as if they found anything anyway.

Darkness was falling on the second night of their detour. Sokka sighed and leaned his left shoulder against the back of a tree. He looked over his other shoulder at he firebender and found the other teen panting, uninjured arm holding desperately on to a low hanging branch. The prince had been slower than usual that day. With an uncharacteristic groan Zuko slipped onto his knees, his arms wrapping around his chest.

Sokka knew there was something desperately wrong and as stupid as the question was he had to ask; "Are you all right, Zuko?"

The prince let out a shuddering breath and dropped his arms; his head remained down, though. "It's to cold," he said through gritted teeth.

Sokka was at his side and knelt down next to him. The tribesman had never liked dealing with sick people, there was always the fear he would somehow fail them. Zuko did look ill now that Sokka was close enough to see the exact shade of gray on his skin and slight shiver he seemed to experience every few seconds.

Sokka swallowed as he placed his palm across the prince's forehead. Zuko immediately winced away but Sokka wasn't able to miss the burning feel to his skin. "You're not cold," the tribesman said. "You're burning up."

"F-fucking Zhao." Zuko managed to laugh dryly. "Fucking irony."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Sokka asked and offered the prince his hand. The prince grasped it and pulled himself to his feet unsteadily. "You'd better begin to explain just what the hell happened to you."

"The poison," Zuko said and threw his arm around Sokka's neck to keep from falling. Instinctively, Sokka slipped his arm around the prince's waist, steadying him.

"What about the poison?" Sokka's mind was racing through the possibilities. Zuko hadn't told him about the poison in exact detail, all he knew was that he had been under its influence. The prince had procured the antidote from the firebenders. Everything should have been squared away after that. But then, Sokka felt his gut drop, that was if the prince had taken the antidote. Sokka had assumed he did. Sokka assumed Zuko would put himself before any other person, especially a tribesman. He swallowed the sense of impending doom welling in the back of his throat.

"You didn't take the antidote, did you?" Sokka dreaded hearing the answer because he knew the prince confirming it would embed it in his mind. He was already beginning to feel the guilt surge in his stomach.

"No." Sokka dropped his head and concentrated on keeping both their balances. They moved toward a dense patch of pine trees and sat down under the largest. Zuko pulled out of Sokka's grasp and lied against the trunk. "I didn't think I would need it. I thought we could reach the ports before it became a problem."

Sokka swallowed again and tried to catch the prince's eye. "How bad is it?" After a second he added, "And don't you dare lie. This is fucking serious."

Zuko seemed hesitant to answer. "I don't think I'll make it to the port."

Sokka was panicking. It was his nature to think up something comical, something to serve as a distraction from pain or suffering. But under the pine, in the dwindling light, his mind seemed to freeze. He could not lose Zuko.

"You'll make it to the port," Sokka said reassuringly. "Even if I have to carry you there."

Zuko snorted in mild amusement. "Disgraceful. I think I'd rather die."

Sokka smiled bitterly and tried not to think about it. "Do you want to try to cover some more ground or should we rest for the night?"

"I don't know which is worse," Zuko admitted and tipped his head back staring into the higher branches. "The poison spreads faster through physical exertion, but resting also consumes time."

Sokka wasn't sure which to choose either but settled for resting. "We can't really see where exactly we're walking in the dark," he reasoned and Zuko nodded in agreement.

They didn't start a fire, nor did they move far from the pine. Zuko lie on his back and stared into the night sky through the branches. Sokka lie next to him on his side; he watched the prince out of the corner of his eye. It was unnerving, just the thought of the prince slipping away - especially after both had been through so much together. They had been so close - maybe just a few miles - and now it seemed to be all over.

Sokka wasn't sure of what the prince meant to him. He was a brother, a friend and, even, _more_. The prince was on a level different than Katara, Aang, or his tribe. He wasn't higher than them, yet he wasn't family or a friend. It was beginning to scare the tribesman. He had always grouped firebenders together - because they had always been the same. It was only now, when he was isolated with the one, that he began to doubt his past assumptions.

"You know," Zuko said in a quiet voice. "I never thought I'd die like this."

Sokka faced the prince and propped his head on his hand. "That's because you're not going to."

It was a small hope, like a candle flickering along in the darkness. Hope that maybe just maybe luck would favor them again. It had for the past week and Sokka was beginning to fear it had run out.

"I always thought I'd die a warrior's death." Zuko muttered, seeming to ignore Sokka's statement. "Not like this. Not in the middle of the forest, freezing to death." Sokka felt his frustration grow. The prince could not die.

Instinctively Sokka rolled over and steadied himself against Zuko's torso. He felt the prince's breath hitched and his eyes met Sokka's before the tribesman rested his head against Zuko's chest. His left arm wrapped around the prince's shoulder - fingers grasping at the thick clothing and pin needles.

"You're not going to die cold or in this forest," Sokka said, breathing over the firebender's chest. "You're not going to die."

Zuko sighed and Sokka took comfort in the sound of the prince's heart beating. "I'm not going to let you die. You saved my life at the expense of your own health, now I'm going to make sure you didn't throw you chances of survival away."

There was another pause and Sokka felt he prince relax slightly. The beats of his heart grew slower and Sokka was afraid they might just come to a stop. "I don't think I threw my chances away."

Sokka felt the prince's left hand curve under his arm and around his waist, pulling him closer. Close, intimately close. Sokka's eyes widened slightly and his face flushed; he was glad Zuko couldn't see him now. It was a silly thought, trivial and inconsequential in the flow of things, but his mind digressed back to the holding cell in Zhao's ship and the feel of Zuko's tongue and the taste of blood in his mouth. He wanted to shake his head and expel the thought immediately, but he couldn't.

Sokka exhaled heavily and said, "You've changed a lot."

"So have you." The prince's voice was beginning to tire and waver. Sokka was sure he was nearly asleep and decided to let the prince have the last word. They had both changed, perhaps more than they were willing to admit.

Sokka's thought drifted back to the beating heart. There had to be a plan, there had to be a way. He hated feeling helpless, but he hated feeling as if he were doing nothing even more. Sleep was beginning to cling to his eyelids again and he forced himself to stay awake, afraid to lose the sound of Zuko's heart. It did over take him in the end, though.

Sokka closed his eyes to the dark and opened them to a red dawn. Immediately, his attention went to the teen underneath him. Zuko was asleep, breathing as if he were well again. Sokka closed his eyes and rested against the prince. There was no plan so he decided it was best to move as early as possible. Sokka pushed himself off the prince and felt the arm around his waist slip off limply. He stood and stretched his arms before facing his companion.

"Zuko." Sokka shook his shoulder lightly. There was no immediate respond and Sokka felt himself panic again. "Zuko. Zuko, wake up!"

The prince groaned and Sokka wasn't sure if it was out of pain or annoyance. Thankful it signaled he was soon to be conscious. The prince yawned and winced back pain as he sat up. Sokka felt his own stomach. It growled unhappily, but stayed quiet for the most part, as if sensing the more significant matter that faced the two.

"How do you feel?" Sokka asked.

"Like that damn bison of yours smashed in my rib cage and stomach." Zuko winced and placed a hand gingerly on his torso. He shifted himself so his back was facing the pine's truck and lie against it. "I'm not going to be able to make it Sokka. Even I have my limits."

His voice was cold and distant, as if he knew what had to be said but didn't want to say it. It was what Sokka had feared. Zuko was beginning to lose hope and confidence. The prince wasn't letting on to how bad it was and it would have to be nearly excruciating to keep him from reaching his goal.

"I have a plan." It was just what Sokka wanted to hear. Zuko deliberated it for a second and drew his knees up slightly. "I want you to leave, Sokka."

Sokka let the words settle in as he stared into the prince's eyes. There was no hate, no malice, there was only beseeching. Nevertheless, Sokka shook his head. "If that's your plan then it's pretty fucked up. We're in this together."

"No," Zuko said gravely. "No we weren't. We've always been at odds, even from the beginning. How may times have we tried to kill each other. This is your chance Sokka, take it and leave - go save the world."

Sokka frowned and felt his emotion stirring rapidly. "And what are you going to do when I'm gone? Just wait and die?"

Zuko smirked slightly and glanced at Sokka through the corner of his scathed eye. "No. The firebenders will find me, they'll find you too if you don't leave."

"No." Sokka sat himself down next to the prince. "Despite what you said we have been in this from the beginning and we'll end it together." Sokka turned so he faced the prince. "I care about you, too, Zuko. I'm staying here because I do."

Zuko looked at a small mound of pine needles. "What about your friends? Your sister?"

"They're not coming. They never were." Sokka felt a small part of him ache with the thought. It was his choice, he reminded himself. It was his choice to make Katara promise and it was his choice to let go of his boomerang at that certain moment. "If I ever fell into the Fire Nation's hands… I made them swear not to come looking for me." Sokka smiled sarcastically. "It's not as if I have anyone, they probably think I'm dead."

It was sudden. Zuko's hand clasped his and the small pile of needles burst into flame. Sokka watched the small trail of smoke curing up into the sky. Somewhere in the distance there was most likely another stream of smoke, drifting off into the heavens. It was just a matter of time before someone noticed there was one more stream than there should be. "So this is your plan?"

"If you have any other suggestions, I'm more than willing to listen."

Sokka stayed silent and watched the smoke grow more profound and noticeable. Eventually, Zuko's hand drew away and the prince rubbed at his shoulders. What lie ahead wasn't clear. It wasn't known. Sokka figured he'd handle it as he always did - as it came. It was time to roll with the punches again and see what luck had and hadn't provided. Sokka closed his eyes, fisted his hand, and waited for the inevitable.

**To Be Continued In…**

**Chapter Twelve: **_**Hostage Of This Nameless Feeling**_

Aboard the Zhao's ship, Zuko wakes to some new developments that are definitely in his favor. Sokka, meanwhile, is posed with a choice: stay with Zuko or leave to find his friends.

[_edited 03.15.2009_]


	12. Hostage Of This Nameless Feeling

**Chapter Twelve: Hostage of This Nameless Feeling**

Zuko was beginning to tire of waking up in unfamiliar surroundings. He had spent much of the day in between the conscious and subconscious worlds. There were things he remembered but didn't fully understand such as the relief in the face of a young lieutenant and the cautiousness of the men who lay him down for the physician - the same damn old man with cold eyes and harder hands, he noted this but didn't bother to take into full account.

His mind was trying to make sense of it all. The firebenders weren't the same as those he'd escaped from. He was glad; they were from Heika, and therefore on "his side". Zuko had had suspicions, yet he never believed Heika or any of the other men would act against their superiors, especially one as formidable as Zhao.

He was vaguely awake, the pain in his body was subsiding and he was aware of the steel ceiling above him every time he decided to open his eyes. He let a smirk rest on his lips. Zhao. How the mighty are fallen. It was still a pity he couldn't see the man's face when his officer's took him down.

There was a scraping sound as someone pulled a chair against the steel floor. Zuko didn't think; it was almost automatic when he asked, "Sokka?"

"Sorry, my Prince" said a distantly familiar voice and Zuko opened his eyes to face the new speaker. It was the lieutenant who'd introduced himself as Sen in the woods, before he had fallen unconscious. The man was all bright eyes and smile. "Your friend is being treated and briefed by Heika."

Zuko turned away. He didn't particularly like this man and there was nothing much more to say to him about Sokka. Zuko ignored the twinge of worry and focused on the new issue clouding his mind. "Have you contacted my uncle?"

"Yes, we sent a messenger bird," the man said. Zuko could feel the eyes focusing on his scar and then drifting to the wall behind it. "When he replies, we'll set a meeting point. You'll be informed first thing."

"Good."

Zuko closed his eyes but mad sure to sharpen his hearing. It was going to be okay. It wanted desperately to believe, but is all seemed so easy, so simple.

"How did you do it?" He asked and opened his eyes. The lieutenant was still sitting in the chair and Zuko wasn't sure if the man was simply impulsive or whether he was unsure leaving. Sen was leaning back, looking casual, his eyes bright.

Sen looked up. "Hm? What do you mean?"

"How did you overthrow Zhao?"

The smile widened. "It was very simple once Heika had the right men aboard. They simply disarmed him and forced a surrender."

"You're making it sound easy," Zuko said and made sure his tone was a warning. He wanted to know the truth.

"Fifty-eight of ours were killed," Sen said impassively. "Zhao lost all who swore their loyalty to him - about eighty men - and the rest on this ship don't particularly care one way or another as long as they're safe in their own beds. This was only one ship with two hundred people; the rest of Zhao's fleet has no idea what's happened, as far as they can tell Zhao is fine and still searching for the Avatar."

Zuko stayed silent. Everything was too easy and the light tone in which Sen spoke made the story sound like a deranged fairytale.

"It wasn't easy. If it was, we'd have done it a long time ago," Sen said and paused with his hand on his chin. "It's hard, you know, keeping everything in line, making sure we aren't betrayed, keeping every thing covered. The ship's a riot waiting to happen. Heika can only keep the masses at bay for so long with his eloquent words." Zuko felt himself cringe; he knew what was coming. "We need a leader."

"You don't need me," Zuko said automatically. He wanted to protest the nomination. He had never considered commandeering a ship of rebel soldiers against his father. Zuko swallowed, his throat growing dry, and looked up at the ceiling where blurred images of the lieutenant and himself were flickering with the firelight. The conflict was burning in the pit of his stomach. There was temptation, too, a strange beast tearing at the doubt in him. He sighed, almost wistfully and tried to think of something to say without denying his own interest.

Sen was leaning forward a little bit, grasping at the chair with white knuckles. "We need you, Prince Zuko."

"No," Zuko said finally and firmly. He faced Sen, regretting the ache turning around left on his muscles. "I am not meant to lead this ship. I already have a mission. I am loyal to my father."

Zuko could see the sting his words inflicted upon the lieutenant as the man sat back with a contemplative countenance. His eyes were still bright but dark lashes and lowered lids seemed to dim them. Sen looked up suddenly and stared the prince in the eye. "Well, my Prince, I am still loyal to my country and my people."

Zuko's mind reeled back into the woods when Sokka had asked him a fateful question: who was he most loyal to, his father or his nation? Zuko tried to ignore the image of the Water Tribe boy and focus on his task.

The sound of the chair scraping against the floor caught the prince's attention. Sen was standing, his bright eyes regarding the prince without contempt or admiration.

"I don't expect you to answer at the moment," Sen said and turned toward the door. "I may not understand to the utmost extent but I understand it is a difficult choice to make. I was not a part of the twenty-first battalion; at the time my father was a general. He still is."

Zuko didn't miss the twinge of distress in his voice and nodded once. As Sen took a few steps toward the door Zuko called out, "I want to see Zhao in a few hours."

Sen nodded without looking at him. "Of course."

The firebenders were nothing Sokka had expected them to be.

"So…" Sokka let the hollow clank of firebender boots fill the silence before the double doors were pushed open and voices assaulted them. "You did all this?"

He was staring into the mess hall of Commander Zhao's ship, a sight he never expected or really considered seeing. There was a multitude of men, most young, sitting in the crowded rooms, on chairs or a table edges. Many of them were talking and some laughed. There were those who watched with a detached aloofness that gave Sokka the impression they were not completely comfortable with the situation, what ever it was. He was still surprised he wasn't bound, beat, and thrown back into the hull, this time with some guards.

"I can't take complete credit," Heika said with an obvious smile in his voice. The wrinkles at the ends of the firebender's eyes crinkled.

Sokka continued to fight the unnerving feeling crawling around in his stomach, it had grown and ravaged his insides ever since the first firebender stumbled through the brush and stopped to stare at his prince's collapsed form. After that, nothing seemed to make sense.

There was a lieutenant, uncharacteristically young and exuberant, who stumbled after the first man and introduced himself as Sen and swore his loyalty to Zuko. Sokka watched the expressions on Zuko face for clues. The firebenders were being cautious - he expected they would be, after all, everyone was aware of the ferocity of a trapped animal - but they were also being respectful. Most of them, anyway.

He and Zuko exchanged looks that clearly showed each other's uncertainty. Then Sen had mentioned he was sent from Commander Heika - _Commander_ Heika - who was docked in the bay, who had recently sent him and some fresh troops to replace the men Zhao originally sent. Zuko's eyes flashed and Sokka wished the prince would have said something to him before a few of the benders led him away.

Sen was an earful, but it had its advantages. He spoke constantly of the new Commander, telling Sokka how Zhao had - finally - unknowingly appointed a survivor of the two hundred, one of the thirty-two, to a position with enough prestige and power to transfer men in and out of the ship. All of it went perfectly, the lieutenant informed him cheerily, none of the transfers bothered Zhao - the Admiral was concentrating on finding the prince and the Avatar. The tasks had drawn his attention from those close to him and he had too much faith in himself and not enough respect for his men. Just desserts, Sen said. Just dessert, but he refused to tell Sokka any more about Zhao and what happened to him. He said he would find out and Sokka wasn't sure if he really did want to, because Sen's eyes and smile scared him.

Sokka concluded that in the week after their escape from Zhao's ship a massive mutiny had begun - and as Sen proudly stated - "with Heika leading the way".

As he stood in the mess hall, with the said commander, Sokka couldn't help but feel apprehensive. The atmosphere was tense and he could feel eyes focusing on him and his blue clothing. He didn't belong.

Whether or not Heika noticed his discomfort, he couldn't tell. He was led passed the men, some of whom looked up with interest or turned away after regarding him and the commander. He was led passed the tables into a private dining chamber where a round wooden table and chairs were positioned under a large map of the world.

"Yes," Heika said. "This was my doing but I didn't act alone." He sat and motioned for Sokka to join him. "You understand that Zuko has followers, when you two escaped one of them, a lieutenant named Enjou, challenged Zhao. He was killed along with two other men, both other them were just following orders which came specifically from Zhao's own mouth. He showed no tolerance for life, especially the life of his own men, needless to say the act brought the morale down, spirits were tested, loyalty too."

The doors opened and a few men dressed in similar beige uniforms came in caring platters of food. Sokka felt his stomach lurch and grumble in anticipation. How long had it been since he'd eaten? Time was vague and slipped through his grasp. He'd spent the morning with Sen, who'd tossed him some dried meat, mentioning how low they were on supplies. Something about a skirmish with earthbender forces and a tent burning down, Sokka didn't pay particular attention - he was eating.

The food was excellent, although anything would have tasted great after tromping around in the forest for a week with and irritable prince. Sokka found himself consciously eating as Heika explained his transferring of men and the covert speeches he'd made toward the other, less enthusiastic crew members - technicians, cooks, and soldiers alike had been briefed and offered a ship without Zhao. Not many of them had taken the offer; in fact only about three percent of the ship's occupants supported the idea. Some had warned Zhao, but by that time, there were enough high-ranking officers to block any messages to generals and, in the end, take Zhao down.

"Where is he?" Sokka asked and wondered if Zhao had been thrown in his own dungeon. It wasn't a very good idea, considering how Zuko had managed to procure a key.

"He's unfortunately alive but guarded," Heika said and absently adjusted his eye patch. "Prince Zuko has requested to speak to him later this afternoon."

Sokka looked up, the name sparking interest. It had been over twelve hours since he'd last seen the prince dragged off by Sen's troops. He would admit Zuko had weighed heavily on his mind as of late. Where was he? Was he all right? How bad was the poison? Sokka felt a rush of worry flood through him and he absently pushed a clump off rice across the plate.

"Is he going to be okay?" It was all he could say without sounding overly concerned. After all, why should he be concerned with the prince? He was a tribesman, and although the firebender in front of him didn't radiate the distrust the men in the mess hall had, he guessed there was some form of diversion between them. Physical, cultural, national - and yet he felt no such difference between himself and the prince. It was odd, how he could sit and eat with a firebender and then think of the similarities between himself and the Fire Nation's prince. A prince because banished or not, Zuko still carried royal blood.

"He'll recover smoothly, the poison isn't a quick acting substance. It pervaded his system through physical exertion, most likely, otherwise it would have taken more time to spread." Heika took a sip of the tea in front of him and watched the steam pool in the air. "I heard he stole a vile of the antidote before he escaped on the night of the thunder storm. He didn't give it to you, by chance, did he?"

"No." What happens in the forest stays in the forest, besides Zuko didn't need any tarnish on his reputation. Sokka decided to forgo the merit for selflessness, it was still considered weak to some and Sokka wasn't sure how will the prince would react to him letting it slip. It was a secret, like the trust and caring he'd admitted too. It wasn't something to be tossed quickly to inquiring Commanders, no matter what they fed you.

"Odd," Heika said and leaned back. "It was reported that you were poisoned also."

"Well, I guess I just have a higher immunity," Sokka shrugged and utilized the advantages of his teen years: lying with a straight face. "Besides your guys pumped me with the antidote once they figured out Zuko was poisoned." That was true.

Heika nodded slowly and Sokka wondered if he believed him.

The dinner continued in silence until Heika set down his chopsticks a bit noisily, purposely catching Sokka's attention. Sokka caught the man's good eye and raised and inquisitive eyebrow.

"During your journey," Heika asked. "Did Zuko mention anything about his plans for the future - for his kingdom."

Sokka felt his blood run cooler and set his own utensils down. It was a typical firebender move, he thought, trapping your prey and going mercilessly for the kill. Heika had brought him in for information on Zuko. Sokka was worth nothing more than what he would tell about the prince. It was insulting.

"Nothing you don't already know," Sokka said with a shrug. "He wants to capture the Avatar and restore his honor." It wasn't a lie this time, Zuko had said so many times and he wouldn't deny it.

Heika sighed and Sokka wondered if the answer he had given was insufficient.

"It's disappointing," Heika said in a discontent voice. "Without him, without Zuko as a leader all our efforts will fall apart."

Sokka wasn't sure what the man meant, but before he could ask Heika continued, "Not many of the men on this ship will continue to stay neutral under my command. As a Tribesman you might not understand. Firebenders are very loyal, fiercely loyal, especially to the honorable and those of royal blood. Although I may possess one trait, Zuko possesses both. In order to keep this ship from falling into the hands of another general or the Fire Lord himself, the men need a leader they feel they **can** truly respect - someone worth respecting."

Sokka shook his head in understanding. "And you want me to convince him?"

Heika nodded only once. "You are close to him, I can tell. Even the first time we met I could tell. You possess the same spirits."

The last sentence stopped whatever Sokka was about to say. Were they really the same? He had mentioned it many times to Zuko during the journey. What they'd experienced, it was similar. What they'd endured. Similar.

"No," Sokka said suddenly, surprising himself. "We're not, but we can understand each other."

Heika studied him with scrutinizing eyes. "You are close?"

"As close as a Water Tribesman and Fire Nation prince can get, I guess," Sokka answered and refused to acknowledge the night before or the dark cell in the hull of the very ship in which he sat. Zuko was the prince of the Fire Nation, banished or not. He would have responsibilities that could never include Sokka. And Zuko was a boy.

Heika leaned back in his chair again and Sokka chose to stare at the spot just the right of his head. "You must understand, Sokka, we are the arms and legs of the nation. If we refuse to move, if we stand against the heart or the brain, we can end the war. Zuko is young, he's well known, and he epitomizes the abuse and neglect the lower ranking officers are suffering through. Long-term warfare is never prosperous; the old men are tired and the young men are ill equipped and ready to leave the battlefield alive and honorable. All they need is someone suitable to extent that option."

Sokka couldn't' argue with him. An end to a hundred year war that had taken his mother, his people, and perhaps his father was more than welcome. He could be the key; he could unlock the door. "Fine." There was no way to deny the temptation of an end to the bloodshed. "I'll talk to him but don't expect anything, it's not like he listens to me."

"Thank you, Sokka," Heika said. Heika smiled and Sokka noticed the creases at the corners of his eyes and how the light caught the dark circle. The man was tired, overworked. "Prince Zuko isn't the easiest person to converse with, let alone convince, I don't expect him to come forth exuberantly a few minutes into your conversation."

"I wouldn't expect anything exuberant out of him unless it involved the Avatar," Sokka said with a slight smirk.

He opened his mouth to continue the conversation but there was a sharp knock at the door and a soldier peeked in without an order to enter. He immediately tensed and said his message quickly, "Sir, the prince is going to see Admiral Zhao now. He asks for your attendance and the tribesman's."

"Of course," Heika said quickly and dismissed him. The commander turned back to Sokka. "Well, this should be interesting to say the least."

Sokka found all he could do was nod back. He didn't know why Zuko was going to confront Zhao. It would be unpleasant.

When Sokka saw Zuko it was in a dim hallway leading to the room Zhao was being held in. Heika and himself had joined with Zuko's party of three and progressed toward the holding area, which appeared to be the former Admiral's office. Sokka was left lagging in the rear while Zuko led the way, from the way the light fell on the prince's face Sokka could tell he was radiating wrath. It would not be a pretty confrontation.

Sokka glanced again at the prince. Zuko had only acknowledged him with a slight nod before marching down the hallway without any sign of his previous condition. Sokka wondered if it was the confrontation or if they had already emotionally parted ways.

He heard the door being thrown open before he saw it. Zuko stormed into the room without acknowledging the guards at either side of the steel entrance. Heika nodded to them and entered before Sokka. Both of the men who had escorted Zuko stayed behind, at the door, which was closed loudly after the Tribesman.

Sokka had never been in an official office of any kind. It was lavish, polished wood and gold leafing adorned the furniture while bright tapestries hung from the wall behind the desk. There were various cabinets and drawers, many contained scrolls or unfilled papers of some significance. At the large mahogany desk sat Zhao. His hands were shackled together with a similar manacle to the one Sokka and Zuko had worn.

The Admiral raised his head and stared, glowering, at Zuko as the prince entered. Sokka noticed the staring contest begin wordlessly as Zuko entered and walked in front of Zhao. Sokka couldn't tell if the pure hate flowing from the prince's features was from the memory or the man in general - both, most likely… Sokka assumed he would portray similar loathing toward the men who defiled his mother. They, fortunately, died by her hand.

"Prince Zuko…" Zhao drawled, drawing the name out as long as he could. His eyes shifted for the prince to Sokka and the teen felt his face instantly form an abhorrent glare. "…An the Water tribe peasant, I see you both survived."

"You shouldn't underestimate us, Zhao," Zuko said as calmly as he could. Sokka could see his fists beginning to smoke. "Underestimation. Assumption. It gets you into trouble."

Zhao scoffed and glared back to the prince. "You're one to talk."

Zuko shrugged off the comment and drew a wrapped dagger from his belt. Sokka immediately recognized it at the earthbender's weapon. Zhao watched Zuko was cautious eyes.

"What are you going to do, Prince Zuko?" Zhao asked with a smirk. "Killing me, an unarmed, shackled man, would be dishonorable."

Zuko stepped forward and raised the dagger, plunging it into the rich mahogany wood of the desk. Zhao had leaned back, his eyes still watching the prince warily. His smirk, though, was gone.

"As much as I desire it, Zhao, I will not kill you," Zuko said through clenched teeth, his hand was still resting on the dagger's hilt; his body was leaning over toward Zhao. "I already have honor and you're right, it would be a shame to tarnish it." Zuko leaned in closer and Sokka was barely able to hear what he said. "It's you who has lost honor, Zhao. You've lost your men's respect and now you've lost everything. You have nothing, Zhao. This…" He tilted the dagger toward Zhao. "…Is your redemption. May the gods have mercy on your soul."

The room was silent.

Heika was impassively watching scene play out. Sokka was almost sure his face mirrored both shock and satisfaction. There was a poetic justice to the past minute. The feeling, like fluttering wings, grew in Sokka chest. Hope. He looked over at Heika and wondered how to tell him there was no need to convince Zuko anymore. He had made his decision.

**--- **

It wasn't something he could do easily. And Sen was right, it wasn't an easy decision, but when Zhao's body was taken out of his old office, the jade and gold hilt embedded in his stomach, wrapped, and preserved as best it could be until they reached land, the decision was sealed.

Zuko didn't feel gratified by the admiral's death. His finger still ached to wrap themselves around the man's neck and choke the last living being out of him. The dagger and three hours of contemplation had done the older man in and in the end it was the right thing to do. The most merciful. He snorted at the thought. Besides, Zuko reasoned later, he doubted he could have touched Zhao in any way, ever.

Things were finally falling into place. He uncle's bird had arrived with a return message just after Zhao was disposed of into the red sunset. A rendezvous point was set for tomorrow. And despite the looks Heika and Sen were giving him and the current situation - his obvious break from his father's side and his quest - there was something Zuko was sure he had to resolve. He found it sulking on the upper deck, staring out in the direction the sun had set in.

"Sokka."

Sokka turned toward his with an inquisitive look. The tribesman had gone ignored for the good part of the day. Zuko was busy; Zuko was going to be commanding the ship. He had new responsibilities. "So, finally have time for me?"

Zuko frowned and clenched a fist, ignoring the comment. "We need to talk. Walk with me."

Sokka shrugged and fell into step next to him as they headed down a long hall, walking almost aimlessly. "What do you want?"

"We'll be reaching the ports by this afternoon," Zuko said mechanically and kept his eyes on the area in front of him. "You'll be free to leave."

He didn't have to look at Sokka to tell he was disappointed. The tribesman's steps faltered a bit, but he caught back up and asked, "So, that's it then?"

"You'll be remunerated for, of course," Zuko said quickly. "And you can tell the Avatar I'm no longer chasing him. I have other things to worry about."

Sokka sighed and stopped, this time facing the prince fully. Zuko was forced to turn and look him in the eye. "That's not what I meant," Sokka said disgruntled. "I meant, it this how our friendship ends?"

There was an uncomfortable silence around them that hadn't existed in the forest. Zuko frowned. "You of all people should understand there are things we cannot change. My place is here, with these men who've risked everything for me and a chance at peace. Your place is with the Avatar."

"I understand," Sokka said and dropped his eyes. "It's just not fair."

"When has life ever been anything close to fair?" Zuko said and turned toward the empty hallway. His room was a few feet away and he felt like walking to it and through the door, so he wouldn't have to listen to the silence and look at Sokka.

"Yeah." Sokka was also looking down the hallway. "I guess this is goodnight."

Zuko nodded without looking at the tribesman and took a few steps forward. He could hear Sokka following behind him and closed his eyes, regretting the idea of his friendship with the tribesman. The whole ordeal was over with, Zhao was dead and they were safe. For now. There would come a time that he would have to stand and fight his father and sister. It would be best to have any allies, no matter how insufficient they were, by his side. A revolution was something he could not do on his own.

"You know," Sokka said as Zuko stopped at the steel access. "It's pretty ironic. The only friend I have that's my age is a firebender. I mean, Aang and Katara are still like kids, they don't see the world the way we do." He stopped and Zuko turned to face his with an impassive expression. "It's pretty harsh out there, isn't it?"

Zuko nodded and kept his eyes trained on Sokka's face. He studied him intently, trying to decipher exactly what the other was saying. But Sokka continued anyway. "It wasn't that bad - the journey, I men - besides the whole impending doom thing and starvation, it wasn't that bad. Well, last night was pretty bad, too."

Zuko could beg to differ, but he stayed silent. Near death experiences weren't considered not "that bad". It was only that night, under the pine, before Sokka had held him that he feared death. He had known he would live that morning. He knew he would be found by the firebenders, it was what would happen to him that was the mystery. And now, the next night, it was over. Zuko hated the fact that he still could feel Sokka next to him.

Sokka' head snapped toward the sound of firebender boots and Zuko reached over to his door, opening it and entering before the soldier had rounded the corner. There really was no need for secrecy; they were merely discussing the end of their journey. There was nothing secretive or taboo being committed. Zuko acknowledged this and stood still as Sokka closed the door.

"You could stay," Zuko said suddenly, without really thinking his words through. He winced inwardly and watched the other boy's face as Sokka turned toward him.

"Stay?"

"It will take more than a few rebel firebenders to stop this war, Sokka." Zuko wasn't looking at him again. He eyes were searching the room absently - looking over the small table, desk, shelves and futon. "We'll be icons, examples of united elements."

Sokka smiled and his voice was lighthearted. "I never knew you were so poetic." But his smile faded. "I honestly don't know what to do. I have at a place with Aang and Katara, but now I have a place with you."

Zuko felt his heart skip a beat and wondered what it meant. He leaned toward Sokka a bit more, so that he could look clearly into the tribesman's blue eyes. "Sokka…" He trailed off and rethought the words quickly. "You are my friend, my only friend." He swallowed once. "I told you a cared about you and I do. What ever choice you make, I will respect it."

"Damn, Heika and Sen are rubbing off on you," Sokka said quickly and Zuko could see he was trying to suppress a light blush. Zuko quickly turned away and stared across the room again. Sokka stayed still. "Thanks… for saying that, you know."

"Sure." Zuko could feel the tension in the room; it was crackling and sparking like lightening between them. He had a vague idea why but decided to ignore it.

"I guess I'll see you in the morning." He could hear Sokka turn and the folds of fabric moving across his arm as he reached for the door. Zuko would later blame his action on the stress, the tension, and the fatigue that had plagues him for the past week. He knew it was mainly the feeling in his stomach and chest that spread throughout his being, telling him it was now or never.

His hand caught Sokka on the shoulder and turned the tribesman so that his back was against the door. Zuko had seen the next action many times before when he was younger and when his men stopped at ports for women. He leaned forward catching the back of Sokka's neck with his left hand and securing the teen's waist with the other. His lips landed a bit off their mark, but he doubted Sokka had noticed because the other boy turned his head almost instinctive and kissed him back without hesitation.

Somewhere in-between an arm wrapping around his waist and a thumb running roughly across his jaw, Zuko caught Sokka's tongue in his mouth. The feeling was familiar, like the night in the cell, but intensified and wanted. He was vaguely aware that he should breath and pulled back enough to catch a breath of air before leaning in to kiss Sokka again. Hands were working at the leather ties at his sides; his own hand, he realized were running through the folds in the Sokka's jerkin.

It was hard to think rationally whilst kissing and undressing someone. Sokka finally pulled away as Zuko successfully undid the tie at his waist. Zuko was coherent enough to realize his chest plate was half hanging off.

"Sorry… I never…" Sokka panted and looked at the halfway undone knots. Zuko shrugged it off and pulled at them himself, the chest plate fell to the floor with a hallow bang. The noise seemed to startle reality back into their oxygen-deprived minds, Sokka's gaze immediately dropped to the floor and his cheeks burned. Zuko was sure the heated feeling on his own face must have been blush.

Sokka closed his eyes and leaned against the door, his chest was still heaving and Zuko could see it through the halfway open jerkin. He looked away quickly and Sokka seemed to sense his eyes.

"I didn't think… I didn't know you…" Sokka was stumbling over words. Zuko wasn't sure if he anything to say at all. It was an awkward moment; it should have been, especially after what they'd been through - what he'd been through. The bandages, the waterfall. Zuko frowned; saving the fool from himself would be a merciful thing to do.

"Just shut up and kiss me." Zuko sighed and grasped the front of the tribesman's clothes, drawing him closer, and smirked. "Idiot."

**To Be Continued In…**

**Chapter Fourteen: **_**And Nothing Else Matters**_

The end has finally come and Sokka's made his decision (with the help of Aang and Katara, of course).

[_edited 03.16.2009_]


	13. And Nothing Else Matters

**Chapter Thirteen: And Nothing Else Matters**

If and what he dreamed, he couldn't remember. He was sure, though, that it wasn't unpleasant and it wasn't snow filled or desolate. As the dim glow of an orange morning spread through the singe glass paned hatch he was aware of the body next to him - the other boy he was nearly sprawled over and, whose breathing was low and rhythmic. The steady pulse under his fingertips beat on and Sokka stretched his hand out, past the body's wrist, in order to splay his fingers over the prince's open hand. Heat was welling in Zuko's palm and fingers and Sokka was beginning to remember just whom he was lying against.

His eyes were open but the full extent of the situation wasn't registering in his mind. Sokka wasn't bothered by the fact he was lying, his top opened and chest exposed, against Zuko. It bothered him that the intimacy of the situation was easily passed over and, almost, dismissed into normality. He _had_ changed.

Sokka closed his eyes, opened them, and rolled on his back so that he was merely touching the prince at the shoulder. Light was beginning reflect from the wave crests to the ceiling causing hypnotic designs to crawl over the dark metal. Sokka watched them and felt the ship sway ever so slightly. It was one of those crucial times in his life, just as he had grasped Appa's reigns in an effort to save Aang. He was again plunging himself into a outlandish situation.

In retrospect, he had never anticipated his life changing so significantly. He was destined, as his father had been, to be a warrior. He would marry within his element, if he lived long enough, that was.

Death had been something glorious - ominous and unwanted, but when combined with courage and honor it was something he desired. A warrior's death. Now, he speculated life was worth more that a single blaze of glory. It wasn't cowardice. He was far from a coward - he knew that. There were instances when he knew he was perceived as one and perhaps, like any sane human, he had streaks. He didn't fear death, though; he simply wanted to avoid it.

The image of Zuko, pale, weak, shivering from a nonexistent chill, was still vivid in his mind. He knew he couldn't loose the other teen to the poison, to death. Zuko had told him previously that he cared for Sokka, enough so, as it was proven, to risk his own well being for the tribesman. Sokka was worried an itchy guilt would spread through his being, but he also knew, given the situation, he would have done the same thing. And, perhaps, that was why he kissed Zuko back.

Falling into an intimate relationship with a firebender, let alone a prince - a _boy_ - was something Sokka had never anticipated either. His life had always seemed to be mundane until the fated fishing trip. This change was most problematic. He, of course, had not thought of any of that when attempting to kiss and undress the firebender. Only now, when he was aware enough to comprehend the entire situation did any of the future dilemmas come to mind.

It was, or would be, rather awkward. Sokka was sure somewhere in the proverbial rulebook they had violated several decrees and raised quite a few flags. There were still issues that needed to be discussed, though. How far were they going to go? Was _it_ purely physical? Was _it_ a mistake brought on by the final and full realization that they were safe? Sokka found himself discrediting the last two thoughts.

Zuko was beginning to shift next to him. The blanket was tousled and the prince raised a hand to his eyes. The motion caused their arms to rub against each other and Zuko stopped, his hand frozen halfway to his face, but whatever the prince's inner reflection had concluded it allowed the hand to continue to his eyes and rub away sleep. Sokka watched out of the corner of his own left eye as Zuko's hand wavered over his scar.

Zuko dropped his arm and stared at the ceiling, allowing Sokka a view of his unscarred side. He could, however, also see the unnatural blue tinge left from Zhao. There had been a reason he didn't dare lay kisses down the prince's neck or descend further. He knew Zuko wasn't about to forget either.

"We've really gotten ourselves into something, haven't we?" Zuko asked quietly, catching Sokka off guard. The Tribesman, however, couldn't deny it.

"Yeah…" The statement hung in the air above them like something sharp and deadly.

Sokka was brought back to the question he'd been previously asked - was he going to return to Aang and Katara? In all honesty, he didn't know. He was still bound to his friend and family, but he was also bound to the prince, through friendship and something more.

"What are we, anyway?" Sokka asked automatically and nearly palmed his forehead. The question was not meant to verbalize itself as it just did.

Zuko's face didn't change. His eyes stayed fixed on the ceiling. "I don't know."

"Are we in love with each other?" Sokka wasn't sure if the question was a safe one to ask, but it needed to be vocalized.

Zuko's attention was caught and he turned to face the tribesman with a sharp glance. He sighed and said, "I don't know. I've never been in love."

The prince's behavior annoyed Sokka but he was willing to ignore it. He had rarely had a serene conversation with Zuko and enjoyed it. The prince had not yet fallen into his usual behavioral patterns; he was still groggy with sleep.

"If we are, do you think it would work…?" Sokka felt those things sharp and deadly begin their decent. Zuko was beginning to answer hesitantly when a sudden bang echoed from the door and both occupants of the futon scrambled to a respective side. It was a natural instinct, Sokka told himself, it was natural to move away from to person you'd spent the night with when someone potentially dangerous to your relationship was about to walk through the door. Thankfully, it was bolted.

Zuko, who was standing, his pants intact, asked, "What is it?"

"My prince," an unfamiliar voice said from behind the steel barrier. "Commander Heika has ordered me to inform you that your Uncle's Ship has been spotted several hundred knots to the north. We would rendezvous with them by noon." There was a pause, then. "Forgive the intrusion, sir."

"It's fine," Zuko said in an indifferent voice. "Tell the Commander I'll be there in fifteen minutes."

"Yes, sir!" The brief sound of hurrying footsteps followed.

Sokka sighed and glanced over at Zuko again. The prince was gathering his clothes from the floor and tossing them aside. He moved toward a chest as Sokka stood and stretched, the muscles in his arms were sore.

"Here," Zuko tossed a pale garment at the Tribesman.

Sokka caught it but held it away from his body with distaste. "Fire Nation clothing? You don't seriously think I'll wear this do you?"

"It's only temporary," Zuko said as he secured his chest plate, tying the knots at his sides without much difficulty. A thin smirk pervaded his usual unhappy countenance as he handed over a pair of pants. "You might not want to wear those in the halls. They're stained."

Sokka looked down and groaned. "Just my luck." He accepted the pants from Zuko and begrudgingly stripped down. The prince didn't pay attention to him and Sokka wasn't sure if he would be thankful or just a bit bitter. Zuko was pulling his hair into the traditional tie and had not spared him a glance. Sokka finished pulling the shirt over his head and frowned. "This looks stupid."

Zuko's attention was caught and he turned to face Sokka. "Deal with it," the prince replied neither confirming nor denying Sokka's statement. "It's better if you blend in, anyway."

Sokka admitted he was right in that sense and simply felt like sulking. They would reach the ports soon; of course, he would _not_ wear these clothes onto the docks. It wasn't right. He wasn't a firebender.

They were both clothed, yet Sokka worn neither the armor nor the insignia. Zuko's clothes were slightly loose, but the armor fit seemingly perfect and covered the extra folds at his stomach.

Zuko closed his eyes and inhaled, exhaling slowly. Sokka assumed he was mentally preparing himself for what lay beyond the steel door. It hadn't occurred to Sokka until that moment, but today Zuko woke up as the leader of a rebellion - a rebellion against his own father. Understandably, it wasn't easy. Sokka bit back a smile, knowing the prince trusted him enough to show a slight weakness in his character.

"Ready?" Zuko asked and Sokka shrugged.

"No, but let's go." He felt his stomach through the rough cloth. "I'm starving." Zuko snorted but a hint of a smile remained in his eye.

Breakfast was served in the mess hall, and all though there was a separate room for higher-ranking officers Heika suggested the Prince eat in the regular hall. It was propaganda and both the teens knew it, but the faster Zuko could gain the officers' respect the better. It affirmed equality, something Zhao was never likely to have supported.

There were, or course, stares, glares, causal glances, and some openly idiotic pointing. All of it was irritating and Sokka could tell Zuko was trying to keep his attention on Heika. His face was set with a passive stare but Sokka caught his good eye twitch twice and his fingers jerk and perhaps heating the air slightly. Sokka decided to stay silent and save the moment for another time.

Breakfast - which was delicious beyond record - finished as they moved toward a conference room. Heika glanced sparingly at Sokka as he entered, but Zuko had not decreed that the tribesman be banned from the area so he said nothing. Sokka had never explored a Fire Nation ship. It wasn't particularly interesting, he found. A large portion of the decoration consisted of the insignia and gold, red, or black silk or scrolls. The conference room - or "war room" as Sen called it - was just as extravagantly decorated as Zhao's office.

Sokka sat in the traditional style, mimicking Zuko, and waited as the other five men introduced themselves. Besides Heika and Sen, there were two burly men with full beards. The larger one was a private called Huo Li, whereas the other was a lieutenant by the name of Feng. There was a placid, older man with a longer beard, also a colonel, named Zheng. Three other men that had no distinctive qualities when compared to the men in the mess hall were seated adjacent from Sokka; they were all lieutenants.

Heika greeted the group serenely as the final members sat. From what Sokka could pick up, the men were all now reassigned as commanders. They, Heika said, exemplified the needed characteristics for the new army. The news passed well with the officers, especially the lieutenants who were apprehensively nodding to one and other. Sokka wondered where he would come in, there had to be a logical reason he was attending.

A large map of the world was attached to the wall; Sokka couldn't help but trace a path to the North Pole where he assumed Aang and Katara were. They were all right, he assured himself. They were smart and resourceful, if anything they were having a good time flinging snowballs at each other with their newfound skills. Sokka smiled to himself.

Zuko stood next to him and Sokka was snatched back from his daydream. Zuko was impassive as he made his way to the front of the room and stood in front of the map.

"I assume you're all aware of the circumstances we face," Zuko began. He folded his hands behind his back and faced the group. "We have been restricted to a single ship, whereas the entirety of our Nation's army and navy number in the thousands. A sane man can understand that to simply turn and attack is pointless - a waste of recourses and a waste of life. It should be easy to understand why I will be requesting foreign aid…"

Sokka was surprised at the whispers that followed. Feng and two other lieutenants were looking begrudgingly toward Zuko.

"We entered this alliance under the impression that we were not defecting from the Fire Nation," Zheng said in a stoic voice.

"You're not defecting," Zuko countered quickly. "We share a common goal with both Water and Earth. We want this war to end; we agree that it is unnecessary; it has no gain for our families. I was asked, once, to whom my loyalty belongs, to my father - the Fire Lord - or to my people - my Nation. I assure you, I am a loyal subject. I will never forsake the Nation of Fire and I am sure you feel as much."

Zuko took a breath and Sokka could see he was clinging to his self-control. "Foreign aid is inevitable. Perhaps Bai Sing Sei will not help us if we have the former General Iroh on our side. Perhaps the Northern Water Tribe will not come out of their crystalline cities. There are few foreigners who would even consider aiding a ship of two hundred Fire Nation _revolutionaries_. But, there are enough to bring us attention."

"Is that how you plan to win the war?" Huo Li inquired. Sokka could not tell whether or not he was mocking Zuko. "Attention?"

Zuko looked frustrated, but continued to stand still. His hands, Sokka expected, were either steaming or sparking by now. The War council was rather harsh, but he suspected they all did not fully trust the banished prince. He was, after all, still branded a traitor and that may have been the reason Heika suggested he lead. Zuko had a legacy.

"I don't plan to win the war," Zuko said darkly. "But, we will stop it."

"And how do you propose we do that?" Sen asked sarcastically and Sokka was surprised. It soon wore off; Sen was setting the prince up for his next crucial point.

"Our greatest battle has already been won," Zuko said flatly. "We're here. You've succeeded in the overthrow of an _Admiral_. Our next major step is to mass our forces - ally ourselves with other nations."

Feng snorted and continued staring at Zuko in an unimpressed manner. "And what exactly will entice these 'other nation' to join our cause? In their eyes we are a joke - you are little boy on a wild goose chase, which you have yet to complete, I might add."

"They believe in the Avatar…" Zuko's voice was thin with irritation. "They may even rally under the Avatar, which is precisely why the airbender's on our side."

"You've captured him?" A lieutenant asked, nearly standing in surprise. A few eyes drifted toward Sokka.

Zuko looked a bit discouraged but answered with: "No… but that matter is irrelevant now."

Sokka took a breath. He had heard bits off the discussion between Heika, Sen, and Zuko during breakfast in what Zuko had said. He also knew that they firebenders intended to use him as a direct connection to the Avatar. He felt cheated, but it was worse for Zuko, the proverbial figurehead to their plans. He couldn't help feel they were both being manipulated. He knew the efforts Heika and Sen were exerting were in the favor of the "good" side, but their methods were disagreeable. Zuko, he was sure, was in agreement but had no better way to entice the newly instated commanders.

"But," Sokka said after Zuko's dispirited answer. "That's where I come in."

"And who _exactly_ are you?" Feng asked. "You're not Fire Nation."

"Sokka," He said smoothly, trying to ignore the eyes of the benders on him. "Sokka of the Southern Water Tribe. My family is pretty influential and I have connections to quite a few Earth Kingdom cities who'd be willing to aid our cause, especially a group of steel rig escapees." The men looked skeptical.

"I'm also one of the two people on the face of this earth closest to the Avatar," Sokka added, knowing it was exactly what Heika and Sen expected him to say. "The Avatar will side with our cause."

"This is… in all earnest?" Zheng asked suspiciously. "You're only a boy!"

"And you're only a man," Sokka said sarcastically. "I don't see what that should matter. Besides, I'm sure you've see the wanted fliers for Aan… the Avatar."

The remainder of the meeting was spent discussing maneuvering the ship and the course to the next dock and the one beyond that and the massing of forces. Sokka found himself watching the men talk and argue drearily. They were much like the other Firebenders he and had met over his journey. They were ruthless and it seemed the older they were the more they expressed that side. The meeting concluded with Commander Zheng leaving angrily. The torches that stood like sentries at the doorway flared at his exit.

"Well," Heika said with a smirk. "That went better than expected. I was surprised it lasted quite so long." Sen nodded.

Zuko's abrasive expression didn't change but the atmosphere in the room seemed to cool when the last man left and the four of them were alone in the room. "I hate politics," the Prince scoffed and looked begrudgingly at the two Commanders in front of him. "Don't expect me to fall into all of your schemes. Of all people you should know what trait I inherited from my father. I am not one to be simply pushed over."

"Of course, sir," Heika said bowing lowly. "Forgive us…"

"Just don't spring another meeting on me like this," Zuko said in a resigned voice. "I'd prefer to do some of my own strategizing."

"Of course," Sen answered and bowed his head. Zuko bowed once to them and they left quickly, inclining their heads to Sokka as they exited the room.

After a well met silence Zuko suggested they spar and Sokka agreed seeing as they both needed to unwind. Zhao had installed a large training arena near the rear of the ship and they met at the entrance after changing. Sokka was glad to be back in his familiar blue clothing, despite the unwelcome stares he received. Zuko was in a sleeveless black vest, similar to many of the occupants in the arena. Sokka marvel at the vast area, it could have fit his village, save for the wall of course. The sun had risen higher and was streaming into the roofless field as each opponent took opposite sides.

"Hand to hand," Zuko said calmly, but Sokka could hear the simpering in his voice. "No weapons."

Sokka smirked back. "No bending."

"Fine."

There were a few seconds of silence, the few men in the area were watching with interest and Sokka vowed not to screw this one up. As fast as he could, Sokka ran, lunging at the prince. The attack was a feint, both of them knew it. It only served to sever the distance between him.

Zuko easily avoided the outstretched hand Sokka had flung at him and sidestepped, letting Sokka pass him by mere inches and exposing the tribesman's back to attack. Sokka twisted around and managed to avoid the strike meant for his spine.

Both opponents stepped back and Zuko surveyed Sokka with a fiery gaze. "You've improved since I last fought you."

"Yeah, well, I've been practicing," Sokka said and took the defensive stance he'd learned from Suki and her Kiyoshi warriors. He was sure Zuko recognized it but the other boy didn't say anything, instead the prince closed the distance again with a hooking punch. Sokka avoided this too, and shifted his back foot, enough so that he faded back and caught the front of the prince's shirt. He intended to send the prince flying past him, but he failed to notice Zuko reaching to catch his arm, so when he turned to release the prince, he also was pulled to the ground.

Sokka landed over the prince and thought they shouldn't fight like this. He was beginning to admire the way the prince's eyes caught the light, how gold they were. Sokka pasued, his fist should have buried itself in Zuko's stomach, but it didn't. He didn't want to, and willingly, he couldn't. Zuko, on the other hand, took no time. His right foot caught Sokka's leg and, thrusting his torso upward, he forced Sokka off him and to the ground. Zuko knelt over him, his fist extended in a mock punch to Sokka's face.

"Looks like you still need more practice," Zuko said and stood, offering his hand to Sokka. It was accepted and Sokka grinned.

"Ah, Prince Zuko." A familiar voice said from the entrance. Sokka turned and saw a stout old man in Fire Nation attire. He was sure this was the Iroh everyone spoke about; he'd seen him with Zuko before. "It's good to see you practicing the basics."

"Uncle," Zuko said a little surprised but pleased. "It's good to see you well." The prince approached the older bender and bowed. "How is my crew?"

"We're intact," said the man Sokka assumed was Iroh, and patted Zuko on the shoulder. "The losses were regrettable but few." Iroh paused and peeked from behind Zuko, noticing Sokka for seemingly the first time. "Whose your friend, Prince Zuko, he looks familiar?"

Zuko automatically turned so he was between them. "Uncle, this is Sokka… of the Southern Water Tribe. He is one if the Avatar's companions."

Sokka approached and bowed as Zuko had. "I'm honored to meet you."

"As am I," Iroh said and his voice was steady and controlled. Sokka was sure he hadn't been fully informed of every event since the battle. "This is an interesting situation you've worked yourself into, my Prince. You must tell me over some tea? What do you say?"

Sokka couldn't help smirk as Zuko shot his uncle an annoyed look but consented. Iroh lead the precession out of the arena, both boys behind him. Although Zuko didn't openly express it, Sokka noticed he walked with a lighter step.

There were things they'd left out, of course, such as the waterfall and the pine trees. Sokka wasn't particularly helpful when pointing out Zuko's obvious weaknesses, but nonetheless Iroh was content with what they told him. Content and pleased with the overall outcome.

Night fell quickly and Zuko found himself standing with his uncle on the deck, overlooking the last glowing rays erupting from behind the seascape. Iroh was watching them with a wistful look on his face and Zuko knew he was concerned with the upcoming events. Revolutions weren't easy things to succeed in. Through history the Fire Nation was exceedingly efficient in quelling them. This was, however, different. There never had been members of the royal family in any of the latter rebellions Zuko could remember, and _never_ had the rebels invested in aid outside their element.

"There will be complications."

"I'm aware, Uncle. I'm very aware of that." Zuko didn't dare look away from the setting sun. "We all are."

Iroh leaned over the railing watching waves break against the dark hull. "And the tribesman, Sokka?"

Zuko paused and looked over at the great black structure housing the soldiers - _his_ soldiers - and Sokka. "He'll most likely return to the Avatar. Once we find the damn monk, of course."

Iroh seemed to nod, but didn't meet Zuko's gaze. The last rays of sunlight were at last dispersing at the horizon and, by now, a few of the early stars could be seen in the dark blue sky. "We've received reports of the Avatar heading to an herbalist's temple," Iroh said finally. "It's located beyond the port, maybe ten miles."

"And you've neglected to tell me until _now_?" Zuko said through his teeth. His hands were automatically white-knuckled against the railing.

Iroh smiled with a shrug. "From what I understood you've given up chasing the Avatar, Prince Zuko. Besides, we are headed for that exact port at this moment - I was going to wait until morning, after you've had a proper rest."

"I'll be able to rest once this war is over, Uncle." Zuko let go of the railing. "Even then… We don't know how my father's supporters will react. I don't think lack of rest will be my largest problem."

Iroh nodded and finally turned to his nephew. "A man needs something to love in life," the old general said watching the sea. "I have seen things, killed men, and suffered the tragedies of war. All these things can tear at a man's heart, drive him mad."

"What do you love, then?" Zuko asked in a quieter tone, his eyes fixed on the pale foam collecting along the side of the ship.

"Peace, tranquilly… tea," Iroh said. "I cherish those closest to me, Zuko. They give me strength."

Zuko caught his uncle's gaze and held it, there was an indistinguishable feeling churning in his stomach. "What are you implying, Uncle?"

"Hm?" Iroh raised his eyebrows. "Nothing. Nothing. This revolution - it will be more complicated than the calculations you and the commanders have laid down. Remember, nothing will ever go as planned." Iroh smiled genuinely and then shrugged his shoulders, rubbing them. "It's become cold, Prince Zuko. I'm going to have some tea before bed; I suggest you do the same."

Zuko nodded, bowing his head slightly. "Goodnight, Uncle."

He could hear his uncle's footsteps retreating as the ocean calms lapped at the sides of the ship. Zuko swallowed the feeling in his throat that had crawled up from his stomach. The memory from morning was still freshly branded in his mind. Sokka was lying next to him, asking him if they loved each other. If they did, would it work? There were obvious complications.

Iroh's footsteps stopped and Zuko almost thought his uncle had stepped into the warm threshold of the ship, when the familiar voice said, quietly enough for only their ears, "I'm very proud of you, Zuko. Remember that, also." The sound of the steel door closing softly followed.

Zuko didn't bother to turn. He stood, watching the sea and the dieing pale orange dusk, before leaving for his new quarters within his new ship. The officers on guard, nodded to him out of tradition and he returned the salutes. Somewhere, he could faintly hear the sound of laughing and a slurring that might have been a song. He didn't bother investigating.

The door to Sokka's room was closed and Zuko didn't bother checking if the tribesman was asleep or not, he really had no business knowing. His own quarters had been restored to what they were previously. Two large Fire Nation tapestries hung on each side of the small bench and dragon idol. The familiar black futon was pressed against the wall at his left.

Discarding his clothes, he folded them and set them aside to be cleaned. It was nice, comforting, to pull on his familiar dark maroon robes and sit in front of the idol. He simultaneously lit the six candles and sat, crossing his legs. How long had it been since he had meditated? The last time was the first night in the forest when he had realized they were poisoned. He hadn't noticed it, perhaps because he was usually too tired to remember trivialities, but his dreams had quieted some. His main concern was his life and Sokka's - his quest was overshadowed.

Zuko let himself fall into rhythmic breathing, inhaling as the candles flared and exhaling with their diminution. He could see the single flame in his mind, moving with the others around him, which he could feel. He lost sense of time, slowly letting the candles synchronize, and his mind calm.

His eyes opened at the short, sharp rapping on the steel entry. When he reached the door, Sokka was leaning against the nearest wall, arms crossed. Zuko was surprised, but didn't make a move to let him in.

"What do you want?" He asked before Sokka could greet him.

Sokka scowled but spoke anyway, stepping past the prince and into the room, "I've been thinking…" and Zuko refrained. "About what we were discussing last night. About me staying." Zuko tried to keep his face blank as he stared into Sokka's eyes. Sokka continued when the prince remained silent. "I… I want to stay."

"You do?" Zuko knew he should be happy. It was, after all, what he wanted. Sokka was one of the only, if not the only, person who he had confided in during his darkest moments. There was no question that the tribesman meant more to him than his family, save Iroh, and nonexistent friends.

"Yeah," Sokka said and dropped his gaze to the floor where one of the rattan mats was laid. "I had some time and it occurred to me, if I hadn't sav… I mean, if I hadn't helped you out in the first place, none of this would have happened. This whole revolution's sort of my responsibility, too. It doesn't seem right leaving you to run the whole thing on your own." Sokka looked up with a lopsided grin. "Besides, with your social skills there's no way in hell you'll be getting any 'foreign aid'."

Zuko frowned. "And I suppose you'll be our envoy?"

"Why not," Sokka shrugged, still grinning. "I'm worldly wise, smart, funny, good looking… who else fits the job?"

Zuko smirked, finding himself falling into the other teen's plot. "Possibly, but I don't know about good looking."

Sokka frowned and crossed his arms. "You're one to talk. Maybe if you didn't frown or glare and emphasize on that damn scar all the time, people would notice you have a really great body…"

The room quieted and Zuko looked at Sokka carefully. The tribesman's cheeks flushed with colors and he turned away. Zuko hadn't expected any physical attraction between them; he had reasoned that any romantic relationship occurred out of raw trust not passion. He swallowed the feeling in his throat. He knew Sokka was not unattractive. Sokka was lighter, but taller, than he was and Zuko had begun to overlook the angles of his face for his sharp blue eyes, which he decided should not be gouged out when they landed on him. It occurred to Zuko that he had never put much thought into beauty - efficiency was held in higher regard.

"I lied," Zuko said after the pause. "Since I feel obliged to return the compliment… You're eyes. I like them."

Sokka turned darker and stuttered, "Thanks."

Sokka had asked him if they were in love. Zuko didn't know. What was love, after all? There was the love he shared, but didn't show, toward his Uncle. The kind that lead him to track down earthbenders and forgo the Avatar in order to rescue the old general. He assumed that was the love families shared - something that should have been inherited through blood, which his father and sister had ignored or never received. His father. Zuko knew that he did love the man, it was something internal that would take time to give up, but he also knew his father was wrong.

What he felt toward Sokka was different. He knew he would put his life on the line for the Water Tribe boy; it was something that, again, couldn't be helped. It was the same thing, the same feeling - like trust, faith, happiness, loyalty, and lust mixing together, to make a single emotion that throbbed and flowed throughout his body - which kept him from wincing as Sokka's lips moved off his and down his jaw line, along his neck, descending. It was the same feeling that kept him from biting into his cheek, his eyes open as he watched Sokka above him, and his knees raised.

Zuko gasped a little, groaning, and Sokka collapsed next to him, heat in his breath. The room might have been sweltering but Zuko assumed it was only the friction between them. It was dim, the candles had been put out and clear, bright, moonlight was flowing through the hatch.

Sokka moved minutes later, resting his head on an elbow, so he could see Zuko's reclining form. "Gods," he said, still a bit short of breath. "You _must_ love me, to do that."

Zuko nodded faintly. "I guess you're right, I do."

Sokka smiled, Zuko could feel the grin without looking. Sokka moved over and lay on his side, an arm wrapping around Zuko's waist, pulling him closer. "Looks like we're going into another forest, huh? This time it isn't going to be earthbenders or poison, is it?"

Zuko consented with a noncommittal sound. He could feel himself slipping away, into sleep. Sokka sounded tired himself, but continued, "Zhao's gone but we've got bigger things after us now. If they know, if they find out, they could hurt us. They'll use me against you. I know that."

Zuko blinked, his eyes fixed on the ceiling. "We'll watch each others back's, Sokka."

The tribesman nodded softly against Zuko's shoulder. "Promise me, if you love me, you won't let that happen. Don't die for me; don't let _it_ die for me. Please. It always works out better if you keep the promise. It did this time. Please."

"Don't worry, Sokka." Zuko felt sleep encroaching. "I promise."

**Epilogue**

Sometime later, when all the trouble of finding the Avatar had been passed, Zuko and Sokka stood together on the deck, observing the land far, far away. Above them, Zuko was sure the large flying bison belonging to the Avatar, Aang, was dodging through the coloring clouds. Above were the jubilant faces of the girl and airbender laughing or simply smiling widely, so happy that they had gained an ally in their own quest. So happy that it had become _easier_.

Zuko scoffed at their naivety. Both he and Sokka knew that the time ahead would be trying, that there would be death and war and, essentially, all that they avidly were trying to stop.

A loud horn sounded from the ships behind them, and Zuko turned to look back at the procession. Green flags were waving from one of the masts, the Earth Kingdom insignia dark, black, and defined over the emerald. Zuko was glad it was not gold or gold encrusted. Just beyond the large steel ships were others. Smaller. Wooden. The Water Tribes.

"Admiring your fleet?" Sokka asked and Zuko snorted. It was small and unreliable, full of rebels and defectors. However, he admitted, from any other firebender's eyes he was one of them, and, so, he did not think of them in low regard. There were always reasons.

"We've been contacted by Bai Sing Sei," Sokka said casually. "They'll arm us."

Zuko clenched his fist. "Good. It's more than I'd have hoped for."

"Pessimism. At least you're realistic." Sokka shook his head, still grinning. "They've also agree to sent troops if we can prove the Avatar's with us. Looks like the king's a fan of his. Lucky for us, huh?"

Luck, Zuko reminded himself, luck was all they'd ever had in that forest and in this one. Katara, the waterbender, had told him once that the gods favored those who were pure of heart. Zuko remembered that _his_ gods favored the strong and loyal. He found himself hoping that the girl was right. All the fortune they received would help in the long run. So far they had been lucky; as far as he was concerned it could only last so long.

Sokka made a noncommittal sound and Zuko turned toward him. "What?"

"Look at the flags," Sokka prompted and Zuko turned his gaze upward. "Heika had them changed."

The familiar red and black flag was waving lazily from a wire between the helm and the bow. The color was the same; the insignia, Zuko noticed, was turned oddly to the right so that the three-tongued flame was on its side. From where they stood Zuko could see three other flags, all fashioned in the same manner.

Sokka, whose neck was also craned, whispered, "It almost looks like…"

"My scar."

Zuko's lips upturned at the sides and Sokka grinned openly, both staring off into a crimson painted dusk, above them a new era dawned. The sky, Zuko reflected, was a particular color - not unlike the red flag waving above the ship, but not akin to blood. And for once, perhaps, it was at last a good omen.

**The End.**

"Pink sky in the morning, sailors take warning. Red sky at night, sailors delight."

[_edited 03.16.2009_]


End file.
